Marvel Evolution
by RetroWriter2012
Summary: Raft escapee Samuel Sterns, adopting the moniker of "Leader," builds an army of enhanced individuals to challenge the forces of S.H.I.E.L.D., Helix, and whoever else stands in his way. Ciciley Livingston is brought out of her retirement when her mission to return her lost son back to form aligns with the threat S.H.I.E.L.D. and Helix face.
1. Prologue

**Prologue: Project ORION (Vietnam – 1969)**

Fourteen years.

Any diplomat or political savvy could put that estimate on the duration of the bloody conflict.

It was nearly as old as Ciciley Livingston, an 18-year-old draftee and one of the few females to serve in field combat. In less than a year, she climbed up to the rank of lieutenant, much courtesy due to her credentials with S.H.I.E.L.D. and a personal recommendation by Peggy Carter.

Carter, as the few close to Ciciley knew, was once an associate and close friend of Ciciley's mother, Chrissy Livingston, who had been classified as "M.I.A." for as long as her daughter's been alive.

Agent Carter saw much of herself in the young lieutenant.

Her fierce determination, focus on duty, and courage convinced her that she was fit to be enlisted for a special squadron of agents stationed in Cambodia under the project codename "Orion."

The resources of S.H.I.E.L.D. and the government led both to believe a Soviet-Hydra faction – that managed to escape under the radar – had been conducting experimental research, replacing the Tesseract-powered weaponry from World War II that would in turn supply artilleries to the Vietcong. "A terrifying breakthrough that could turn the tide of the war" was how President Lyndon B. Johnson described the scenario.

As commanding officer of her squadron, Ciciley received her intel on the location of the Hydra base that pinpointed it on the border of Cambodia and North Vietnam.

She led a proud squadron consisted predominantly of Howling Commando veterans like Isadore "Izzy" Cohen, Dino Manelli, and Robert "Rebel" Ralston. The only new recruits to the squad were Elijah "Eli" Simms, a young African American man just a year older than Ciciley and yet to see combat, and Martin "Marty" Brooks, a cocky, male- chauvinistic Italian American in his mid-twenties who Ciciley trusted as far as she could throw him.

The unit arrived to the location at nightfall, keeping themselves hidden behind a ridge some distance from the base heavily guarded by Vietnamese soldiers. They speculated how to infiltrate the base without being seen – everyone except for Brooks.

"Hey, fellas, I was thinkin' about our squad name," he said in his thick New York accent. "Since 'Howlin' Commandoes' has gotten too old and tired, I thought maybe—"

"Get your head outta yer butt and back in the game, Brooks!" Ciciley sneered.

"Hey, Livingston, ya may be squad leader but ya ain't boss of me!" Brooks argued. "I say we just go in, guns blazin', and wipe these rice-pickers off the face of the earth!"

"Are you _insane_ , mate?!" The Aussie Izzy darted his steely blue eyes in Brooks' general direction. "Have you forgotten there's a Hydra terrorist in there?! One slip and we could send the entire Vietcong on our tails in a heartbeat!"

Brooks puffed out his chest. "Ain't no Vietcong that scares me."

"Hey, boss," Ciciley heard the southern Ralston addressing her. "The kid's a bit shaky." He gestured to Simms, whose breathing became unsteadily, clutching his rifle gun with his head hung low.

Detecting this, Ciciley calmly instructed the young cadet, "Easy, Simms. Breathe. Take it slow."

Heeding her advice, he found himself turning a bit more collected.

"You got someone waiting for you back home, kid?" She smiled from calling him that, regardless of him being older than she was. A part of her liked him for being so innocent in all this war while also pitying him; he had only been deployed for a month and hardly got his hands bloodied.

"My fiancée," Simms confirmed. "I proposed before the day I shipped out."

Brooks condescendingly snorted. "Dumb move, kid. Left your girl at home worried sick about your sorry butt every day, wonderin' _if_ ya ever come back."

"Takes a guy courage to step up like that, Brooks," Manelli boldly confronted his fellow New Yorker. "Most guys chicken out 'cause they think the way _you_ do."

Ciciley stifled a snicker that didn't go unnoticed by Brooks.

"A man who proposes before being shipped out is a man with good faith," Izzy praised to one "Amen" supplied by Ciciley.

"You goons say whatever ya want," Brooks grumbled. "That broad of his is doomed into an early heart attack. That is, if _he_ doesn't die first…on the battlefield."

"Hey, I'm not gonna take that from you, Brooks!" Simms roared.

"Say that again!"

The two infuriated men rose up, charging at each other.

Had it not been for the interference of Ralston and Manelli, holding them back, the words would have turned to blows.

"Cut it out! I've got a plan." Ciciley alerted, returning focus to the base. "We take out the outer defenses through stealth, that way we can catch the inner defenses off guard once we bust in. If they don't know what's happening outside, we have a better shot at catching them with their pants down inside."

Simms and the veteran Howlers verbally concurred with the genius plan.

Brooks remained mute (not that his opinion mattered to Ciciley).

"Got us a few knick-knacks to make sure this goes off without a hitch," Izzy said, turning to a gadget-filled duffel bag. "Taser arrows and a bow to fire 'em; a cough box – my own invention to simulate coughing that'll lure in the target and explode into a smoke bomb; and an EMP switch that's sure to black out those two towers by the gate."

Ciciley was like a kid at a toy store, ogling over Izzy's gadgets.

Gathering them with her Bowie knife, she tied her long raven hair into a ponytail and used a crimson handkerchief as a headband.

"There's one _tiny_ detail I forgot to mention in this plan," she told her men. "I'm going in alone." She was already over the ridge, heading into action, before Simms, Brooks, or the Howlers could have said a word.

Brooks shook his head, clicking his tongue. "Dumb broad just signed her death certificate."

He soon ended up eating those criticizing words as he, alongside Simms and the Howlers, watched the teenaged soldier go to work.

She first used the EMP switch to take out the spotlights and then fired the taser arrows with pinpoint accuracy at the soldiers in the towers, striking them in the chest and sending them into a deadly seizure. With the area darkened, the other Vietcong soldiers were left baffled and blinded, only a few wielding flashlights to see.

Ciciley proceeded to use the cough box to lure the majority of ground soldiers toward the side of the complex. Once the box unleashed the smoke, clouding their vision and making _them_ cough, she sliced each of their throats, executing them instantly.

The last two remaining guards, positioned at the base door, heard the commotion.

One went around the corner to check it out; however, the other soon witnessed his body collapse from the corner with a taser arrow to his chest. His watch dropped in investigating the body, failing to spot Ciciley sneaking up from behind and burying her Bowie knife deep within his back, its tip protruding from his front.

"Whoa!" An astonished Simms exclaimed over the young woman's prowess.

"I see now why Carter enlisted this one," Ralston said. "One tough lil' minx!"

From the distant ridge, he detected Ciciley making an unknown gesture; only through his binoculars did he realize she had signaled for her comrades to advance.

They regrouped near the base door and stormed in, gunning down the resistance that waited. The forces within the upper level, housing office space and winding corridors, was surprisingly minimal. Short work was made by the squadron in mere minutes of infiltration.

"That was _way_ too easy," Manelli stated for the record.

"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, old man," Brooks refuted.

"And don't call me 'old man,' you horse's…!"

"Alright, alright," Ciciley caught their attention. "You Howlers keep an eye on the entrance. Brooks and Simms, you're with me. We're gonna do reconnaissance downstairs. If we're _actually_ walking into a trap, I wanna make sure I got backup just in case."

On this command, the squadron split into their groups.

Ciciley, Brooks, and Simms headed down to the lower level, discovering a bigger portion of the base resembling more of a warehouse, complete with a giant Hydra insignia engraved on the far wall.

White-walled labs were situated at adjacent sides with open ceilings to expose the different experimentations that took place. Rows of operating tables were between them, occupied by decayed human bodies. No personnel was currently present; only their unfinished and abandoned work remained.

Simms vomited when sighting one human test subject with its chest cavity exposed. Neither Ciciley nor even Brooks judged his gut reaction, being just as revolted from the disturbing display.

"What kind of sick freak show did these Nazis cook up in here," Brooks wondered aloud.

Ciciley wandered into one of the laboratories. Inside, she spotted a Vita-Ray Chamber – the same mechanism that transformed Steve Rogers into Captain America in the 1940s – and a desk littered with photographs of a test subject deformed by whatever experiment he was involved with.

"Hey, Lieutenant! You better check this out!"

She was called out of the lab by Brooks when he and Simms happened upon one body on an operating table that was large, muscular, and blue-skinned.

"They must've kept this one in cold storage too long," Brooks presumed.

"Could be alien," Simms said.

Brooks scoffed. "Last I checked, men from space ain't big and blue, genius."

"Let's just forget about him and start setting up the C4 charges," Ciciley ordered. "Let's blow this _odd_ itorium back to Hell where it came from."

Simms and Brooks carried out her command.

She was on the verge on assisting them before her attention was drawn to yet another laboratory. This one contained a six-foot steel cryogenic chamber and another desk littered with photographs of a redheaded woman out of the 1940s. But it was the chamber that caught Ciciley's eye first and foremost, luring her hypnotically towards it.

Unfortunately, due to her short stature, she couldn't look through the viewport to see whatever/whoever was inside.

She turned to find something sturdy to stand on.

Her cold blue eyes met with the barrel of a handgun.

Its owner was a tall bald man with a dark goatee, adorned in a beige Soviet Union uniform pinned with several medals and Hydra pins.

Viktor Uvarov.

The very Russian Hydra agent they were sent after.

Outside the laboratory, Brooks and Simms had been detained, also held at gunpoint by Vietnamese soldiers.

"Добро пожаловать в ад, женщина," Viktor hissed in his Russian tongue.


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One: Hell's Kitchen (The Night of the Super-Skrull Invasion)**

"Fahr" is the name chosen later in her life – or whatever one may choose to call it.

But once she was nameless.

The circumstances of her personal background still remain a mystery. Anything before the night she woke up naked in that dark alleyway was a total blur. Whether or not it could be classified as amnesia was up to a certified professional.

Completely dazed and standing off-balance, she was surrounded by six others in the same condition.

Five women. One man.

One of them she would later come to personally know as "Heather."

They all wandered in separate directions. A passing vehicle nearly struck one of them, honking its horn to shoo her away.

Bystanders stopped and stared – some taking pictures, some giggling.

Fahr ran as fast as she could.

Deeper into the heart of the city she ventured. After a while, she began to tire.

The only warm place she could find to sleep was inside a dumpster, where she spent the remainder of the night. She was awoken the next day by the morning pickup, barely able to escape in time before she ended up in the dump truck.

A small _Salvation Army_ outpost was the only place where she could obtain reasonable clothes: a black leather jacket, grey t-shirt, ripped black jeans, and leather boots. She checked herself in the mirror, seeing herself for the first time – a goth-like young woman with cropped black hair and pale skin.

She continued wandering the streets, growing hungrier by the second.

She hadn't even realized she had been staring at a hot dog stand for minutes, her mouth drooling with hunger.

"Hey, kid," the vendor (an old, mustached black man) yelled at her. "Get outta here! Your stank butt is drivin' my customers away!"

"I'm sorry," she said – it was the first instance she spoke, realizing she possessed a German accent. "I only want something to—"

"I got it covered."

A young, formally-dressed blonde came to her rescue, handing ten dollars to the vendor and buying a hot dog for her.

The woman's name was Karen Page.

While Fahr consumed the hot dog, Karen asked her a series of questions, mainly regarding her identity or life, neither of which Fahr had any recollection.

Karen knew of one place to take a homeless amnesiac like her: the Cathedral of Saint Patrick. There, a blind lawyer by the name of Matt Murdock, who was also Karen's boss at the law firm where they worked, conversed with Father Lantom.

"She's welcome to stay," Lantom accepted, after learning of Fahr's situation. "This church has always been a sanctuary for wayward souls."

"Indeed it is, Father," Matt said. "It's incredible how _far_ this one's come to stay."

And that was how she would come to be known as "Fahr," albeit spelled differently.

For months she spent living with Father Lantom at the Cathedral.

While cleaning her room, she watched a news report on her flat-screen television set about an event the press referred as "The Battle of Sokovia," involving the Avengers. Amateur footage of the entire city torn from the Earth and into the sky was shown, every bit of it like something out of a science fiction movie.

Her attention diverted from the news when she noticed Father Lantom taking out the garbage.

"Let me help you, Father," she insisted.

"Bless you, child," he graciously said. "But you've done plenty around here."

"It's the least I can do for giving me a home."

She carried the heavy trash bag out to the back alley.

The rain poured heavily that chilly evening. Had she let Father Lantom step out into it, he would have certainly caught his death of cold. Fahr, on the other hand, was immune, perhaps being of a younger age that she still couldn't decide on – early-twenties or early-thirties.

"HELP! HELP!"

Her head swiveled, whipping the single bang of her short, drenched black hair, as she witnessed a gang of street thugs threatening a pregnant woman for money at knifepoint.

Unable to just stand by and watch a revolting display, Fahr went to her aide.

She took the trashcan lid and, in a move that mimicked Captain America, flung it directly at the head of the thug holding the knife.

Now having their attention, the thugs charged at Fahr.

A group of five roguishly dressed men, she took down each one with remarkable speed and agility she never knew she had. Hardly a finger was laid on her.

"Let's get outta here," one of them screamed. "This chick's crazy!"

They ran with their tails between their legs.

Fahr focused on the pregnant woman, who leaned against the wall, crying.

"Thank you," she said. "You saved my life."

Looking at her face, soaked by tears and rain, Fahr vaguely recognized her.

"What's your name?" She asked.

"Heather."

"What're you doing out so late, all by yourself?"

"I was just kicked out of my apartment. I wasn't able to pay the rent."

Fahr's heart broke for her. "You can stay here with us," she gestured to the cathedral near them. "I'm certain Father Lantom will give shelter to an expectant mother just as he did a homeless amnesiac like me."

Heather curiously frowned. "I…I can't remember much of _my_ life either."

"I think we were meant to find each other," Fahr said, smiling.

A week later, Heather gave birth to a healthy baby boy.

Yet Father Lantom couldn't help but notice the fact he was African American.

"Who was the father?" He asked Heather.

She shook her head as she answered, "I never had any knowledge of there ever being a father."

"You conceived this child immaculately?" Lantom realized, much to his gratifying interest. "Like Mary to Jesus. Your arrival to this church was not by accident, child. It's a sign of God, if I ever saw one. And, if we're lucky, your child could be a new Messiah, if not _the_ Messiah himself."

This belief was met with much emotion from Heather.

A month passed since the birth of Heather's son, who she named "John."

She continued living happily at the cathedral with him and Fahr, the latter who persisted to chore around in service for Father Lantom.

Heather sat in one of the pews, listening to the radio.

"Governmental establishment of the Sokovia Accords appears to have created much _dis_ cord among members of the Avengers. After facing imprisonment in the Raft facility for actions _against_ the Accords, Clint Barton, Wanda Maximoff, Sam Wilson, and Scott Lang were broken out of their captivity, presumably by fugitive Steve Rogers, a.k.a. Captain America. As of now, the whereabouts of these _former_ heroes are unknown."

"Sokovia Accords my butt," the opinionated Fahr grumbled. "Those stupid Accords are the whole reason the Avengers broke up."

"Who've we got to protect us now?" Heather queried. "That Spiderling kid?"

"And where's Thor?" Fahr asked. "We've heard nothin' about him since Ultron."

"How much longer will we have before another alien threat like the Chitauri or that Super-Skrull thing show up?" Heather worryingly held her son closer to her bosom.

"Those darn Accords!" Fahr scorned. "If I were an Avenger, I'd show just how much of waste they are!"

"You wouldn't have to be an Avenger to do that."

The two turned at the voice that spoke near the cathedral entrance.

There stood a fancy-dressed woman of African and Sicilian descent with long straight black hair and olive skin. Her eyes were hidden beneath a sizable pair of sunshades.

"Can we help you, Miss?" Fahr offered.

"Actually, I can help the both of you," she said. "You both have spent your days and nights the past month in this church, wondering about being part of something greater. I'm here to offer you a chance at becoming that with us."

Heather frowned. " _Us_?"

As if on cue, five other people walked in behind the African/Sicilian woman – one man and four other women of varying ages ethnic backgrounds (one was a fortysomething Hispanic and another a much older Italian).

The strangest part, however, was that Fahr and Heather recognized these people who they have never met in either of their lives.

"Who _are_ all of you?" Heather questioned.

"My name's Ciciley and these strangers with me are called Splitters. You all are part of one whole person I believe can help us save humanity."


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two: Call Hank Pym (Côn Sơn Island, Vietnam – 1972)**

Hank wanted to take the face of whoever authorized sending an 18-year-old female draftee into a mission deadly enough for a professional and slam it repeatedly against a stone wall.

Ciciley Livingston went missing in action for three years.

S.H.I.E.L.D. had been unable to find her or her squadron anywhere in Vietnam; at least not without the risk of going deeper into enemy territory and being killed on sight.

That's why they called him.

The abilities of his Ant-Man suit and his own prowess was all he needed to successfully infiltrate a HYDRA-operated prison on Côn Sơn Island – the one spot S.H.I.E.L.D. was unable to reach.

Getting in was the easy part.

The difficult part was witnessing the true horrors of the Vietnam War inside.

Hank nearly vomited at the mangled bodies of many abused and tortured soldiers, some of which included the Howling Commando veterans that were dispatched with Ciciley. The screams of one lured him to a chamber where he discovered Simms and Brooks, the two greenhorns.

They were strung up by their wrists and stripped naked before a small gathering of Vietcong torturers. One of them was on the verge of castrating Brooks until Hank flew into uncontrollable rage.

Brutally disposing of the Vietcong, he was so deep in fury that he didn't even realize how he shouted obscenities at them in his disgust.

As he approached the tortured captives afterward, Brooks panicked.

"Don't come near us, you freak!"

His fear of him was justified. After all the horrors he had suffered through, to see a man shrink down to ant size and grow big again – in an intimidating suit, no less – would undoubtedly be mentally unsettling.

As such, he pressed a switch on the side of his helmet that opened the faceplate, revealing his human face to the greenhorns.

"My name's Hank," he told them. "S.H.I.E.L.D. sent me to help you guys."

"You're here for the lieutenant?" Simms presumed.

"Do you know where she is?" Hank urgently asked.

"The Vietcong have allied themselves with HYDRA," Simms revealed. "The Russian, Viktor Uvarov, has been behind the whole thing, the whole time."

Hank's fists clenched. "Where's Uvarov keeping Ciciley?!"

Simms hesitated to answer, "H-He's been experimenting with her in his lab."

Mortified at the prospect of his friend and former lover dead or worse, Hank moved quickly. First and foremost, he freed Simms and Brooks, instructing them to find some clothes (even if they had to steal the ones off the backs of the Vietcong) and wait for him outside the complex.

Thereafter, he made his way to Uvarov's lab.

Sure enough, Uvarov was there, overseeing an in-process vivisection on Ciciley.

The fury of Hank Pym increased tenfold.

Uvarov was his first target, catching him off-guard, shrinking down and running in between his gigantic feet, then delivering a fierce uppercut as he grew back to size. The Russian HYDRA agent was out cold before he hit the floor.

"BACK AWAY FROM HER!"

The Vietnamese surgeons put up zero resistance, surrendering the second he took down Uvarov. They moved away from Ciciley's marred body. Hank could hardly look at her, his stomach twisted in knots.

She surely had to be dead.

To his surprise, she wasn't.

Her steely blue eyes opened, darting all about until they found the costumed stranger standing over her.

"H-Hank…?" She weakly muttered.

Shocked and distressed, Hank reopened his faceplate and took her by the hand.

"Yeah, it's me, hon," he softly said. "Just hang in there. Everything's going to be alright. Just hang on."

She drifted back into unconsciousness, as the distraught cries of her rescuer drowned away.

 **San Francisco, CA (Present Day)**

A high-pitched steaming sound awoke the elderly Hank Pym out of his afternoon snooze. He moved to the kitchen, expecting his tea to be ready, only to remember not having set a pot.

Yet he still heard that high-pitched whining.

All the dishes began to rattle, and the floor vibrated underneath his feet.

This drew Hank to the window where he saw a Quinjet, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s standard aircraft, land right in the middle of the street corner. Many of Hank's neighbors stepped out of their homes to see in sheer disbelief and confusion.

Hank himself was baffled until he saw the ramp lower to permit the exit of the jet's occupants: a woman that looked very much like a _young_ Ciciley Livingston accompanied by a dark-haired female S.H.I.E.L.D. agent with a robust figure.

Walking out himself to greet them, Hank couldn't believe the grand entrance.

"A phone call would've sufficed," he scathingly said. "But what more could I've expected from S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"I'd figure even Hank Pym would spare some time for an old friend," the Ciciley lookalike addressed.

Hank scowled. "Young lady, I don't know _who_ you are or who you _think_ you are, but not since 1989 have I been 'friends' with any S.H.I.E.L.D. flunky!"

The young woman chortled. "Hank, it's me. Ciciley."

Hank's wrinkled eyes squinted beneath his specs. "Impossible. You… _Ciciley_ would have to be well over sixty years old by now. What're you? Her daughter?"

"I guess you don't remember that _long_ night we shared in Monte Carlo that summer of '67?" The young woman flirtatiously said. "You were _magnificent_ , Mr. Pym…or should I call you by the name I know you best: _Giant Man_."

Hank's jaw dropped at the young lady. "Ciciley?!"

"Giant Man?" Ciciley's S.H.I.E.L.D. companion uttered with a raised eyebrow.

* * *

Once he was over the shock of his oldest flame in a youthfully rejuvenated body, Hank invited her and the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, whose name he learned was "Anne," into his home. He had many questions regarding Ciciley's discovery in the Fountain of Youth, which she could only explain by recounting her experience at Project Geo, a few years back.

There were a lot of other recent events to be caught up on between them, such as Ciciley's situation with the Super Skrull and Hank's new protégé, Scott Lang.

"Where is he now?" Ciciley wondered.

She noticed him cautiously eyeing Anne, who sat reading in Hank's study.

"Don't worry, it's just a front she has to put on," Ciciley reassured him. "She's not _really_ with them."

"To be honest," Hank said, "I have no idea where Scott is. He could still be incarcerated or worse. I blame Tony Stark for what happened. Scott never should've had to fight for Captain America. Those Sokovia Accords ruined any chance he had for starting a new lease on life."

Ciciley gave an understanding nod. "I don't disagree with you on that. They almost turned my own daughter against me before she woke up to the truth."

"Why didn't we do it, Ciciley?" Hank inquired. "Why didn't we leave S.H.I.E.L.D. together after Vietnam? I still have nightmares of everything I saw on Côn Sơn Island."

Ciciley brooded. "So do I, Hank. But we can't rekindle what once was. If we _did_ leave the organization after 'Nam, you never would've met Janet and had Hope in your life."

"Ya got me there," Hank happily admitted before turning attention back to Anne. "So what's _her_ story? Not a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent? Not an Avenger? What? Is she just some kind of freelancer?"

"Still haven't been able to figure that out myself – I don't even know how she managed to get that Quinjet sitting out there," Ciciley said. "All I know is she's part of my most recent nightmare. She's helped me to find fragments of my son."

Hank bafflingly cringed. "Fragments?"

"John Saccheri forced him in a crude experiment that split him into individual people who possess parts of his core personalities and more."

"Saccheri," Hank hissed at the name. "I've always known his research to be something like a toss between Stephen Hawking and Hannibal Lecter. But, from what you've just told me, it sounds like he's genetically engineered copies of your son. Though, to do that, he would've needed a catalyst, or else it wouldn't have worked."

"My mother. Her DNA was nothing like any on this earth – totally alien."

"Whatever genetic structure she carried enables some type of birthing process, in which a new living being is created and evolved past the point of maturity."

Ciciley groaned, feeling a headache coming on. "Is there a cure?"

"There is, but not without a risk."

The click-clacking of heels drew their attention to the study entranceway where Anne stood, inserting herself into the conversation: "What risk could there be?"

"A variety of them," Hank answered. "Death, obviously, topping the list."

"They're worth getting my boy back," Ciciley declared.

"I should add that the only equipment required to conduct this experiment is in the old facility upstate in New York that's currently being used by Earth's so-called 'mightiest heroes,'" Hank sardonically stated. "And if you expect _me_ to step foot in that place with an _inch_ of humility, you're dead wrong!"

Ciciley smirked. "Good. So you're coming with us then."

Hank exasperatedly grumbled. "I hate you."

"No, you don't, Giant Man," she said with a wink.

 **Côn Sơn Island, Vietnam (Former HYDRA Prison Site)**

Arriving in the middle of the night via helicopter, Dr. Marie Nylen reveled in being in the one place where Ciciley Livingston was truly reborn. Thanks to the access she and Samuel Sterns had to Saccheri's HYDRA files, she discovered the island's prison to be where the most horrendous experiments were conducted – one of which directly involved Ciciley Livingston.

 _If she only knew what they've turned her into_ , Nylen maliciously ruminated.

She ordered her men – armored soldiers in black S.H.I.E.L.D. regalia that were truthfully subjects of the Skrull Empire – to take reconnaissance in the abandoned prison. They uncovered a hidden bunker where dozens of malformed test subjects were submerged in water-filled tanks, visibly conscious.

"In accordance to the S.H.I.E.L.D. half of the files, there are hundreds more of these creatures in the facility on the border of Cambodia and North Vietnam," Nylen noted.

Sterns was a kid in a candy store. "Your Majesty, I must thank you for bestowing your gracious gift to me! This… _This_ gives me an excellent start to my grandest scheme ever! Only now do I require the _key_ test subject: Ciciley Livingston!"


	4. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three: Strange Times**

It had been a month since Stephen Strange took up solace in the Sanctum Sanctorum on 177A Bleecker Street – an address that sounded awfully close to 221B Baker Street to Stephen.

The sanctum rightfully became his after its previous owner was murdered.

Stephen, once a gifted neurosurgeon, knew his life changed after the car accident that took his hands; but he never imagined _how_ different it would become, upholding his new role as one of the Masters of the Mystic Arts.

Now he spent his days strengthening his skills through study in books he would come across in the sanctum's library.

Then his afternoon reading was interrupted by movement _within_ the sanctum.

Immediately, he went on guard, suspecting the worst case scenario, such as one Zealot to have eluded the fate that Kaecilius suffered. As such, he conjured an astral weapon he hoped would be effective against the intruder.

He detected the activity coming from inside the bathroom.

As he inched closer to the door, his face turned at the retching sounds that were made beyond the doors. His intruder was apparently sick.

Opening the bathroom door, he found a woman with a robotic arm and dirty blond hair tied back to keep from the toilet she puked in. Wearing a black hoodie and yoga pants to match, she somehow got inside the sanctum without Stephen even knowing.

"Where did _you_ come from?" He asked her. "I-I mean, _how_ did you get in?!"

She flushed the toilet before answering, "I'm something of a sorcerer myself. But that's all coming to an end soon."

Stephen frowned at her. "Who are you?"

"My name's Mindy, Guardian of a dimension called the Disneyverse. Though, judging from the way I'm feeling, I doubt it exists anymore."

" _Disneyverse_? You mean like Mickey Mouse?"

Mindy nodded with a smile. "That'd be the one."

He wasn't sure of how to proceed with the conversation after learning details that would've been nonsense to him a year ago.

"How can I help you, Mindy?"

Slumped beside the toilet, she moaned, "I've lost connection to the Disneyverse, or it's lost connection with me. It's like it's not there anymore – _nothing's_ there anymore."

Stephen dubiously shrugged. "I wish I could help, seriously I do. But I'm only just beginning to understand my own power… even after saving the world from the entity of a dark dimension. There's a guy who could be more useful. His name's Wong, and he's currently in the London Sanctum. I can—"

"No…you… _only_ you," Mindy tirelessly pleaded.

"I don't get it," Stephen scoffed. "You're putting a whole lot of blind faith in a guy you've never even met. Why?"

"I know more about you than you'd think, Stephen Strange. In fact, I've always wanted to meet you, but your fate wasn't yet sealed with the Masters." She paused, her puppy dog eyes darting about the room, reminiscing. "I've gotten to know everything about this world in my time here…which won't be for much longer."

Stephen listened closely to her subtext. "You're dying?"

"I am… _again_ , actually," she undeniably said. "And this sanctum is where I plan to spend the final moments of my life."

* * *

Nick Fury and Thaddeus Ross spent hours in the briefing room of the New Avengers Facility. What started as a civil conversation escalated into a shouting match within an hour.

The glass walls of the room didn't keep the exchange private.

They could be seen by the passing personnel, some of which stopped to see the two men arguing.

"Never seen two adults argue before?"

Myst's stern address to the personnel was all it took to remove prying eyes from Ross and Fury's debate. Of course, it didn't keep _her_ from keeping an eye on them a distance across.

At the corner of her eye, she noticed someone joining her side.

"They're still ticked about the Raft breakout, I see."

It was her second-in-command, Elendriel.

"Which breakout you're referring to?" Myst said. "The one that led to us losing Samuel Sterns and that Splitter girl? Or the recent one obviously orchestrated by Captain America?"

Elendriel forgot about the latter incident, which was still fresh on everyone's minds. The facility had been without the company of certain Avengers since their civil war over the Accords. Only Vision, a recuperating James Rhodes, Yamila, and at times Tony Stark still kept residence there.

"At least Cap was predictable," Myst admitted. "Whoever that was behind the first breakout is a pro I'd like to beat the heck out of when I find 'em. But, alas, all we're able to go on is surveillance showing a band of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents being the main culprits."

"You think it could be a few stragglers left from HYDRA?" Elendriel queried.

"HYDRA is a dead horse," Myst denied. "Whoever these guys are, they are on a whole different level. Add that to the fact of how Raft security is tighter than Alcatraz and Ryker's put together. _No one_ should have been able to infiltrate that place – I don't care if you _are_ Captain America."

In keeping eyes on Fury and Ross, they spotted Dr. Marie Nylen crossing by.

"The Doc was there when it went down," Myst noted before getting Nylen's attention. "Hey, Doc." Nylen stopped at her beckoning, turning away from the clipboard that maintained her focus for some time. "Can you remember _anything_ from what happened at the Raft the day you were there for Sterns?"

Nylen gingerly shook her head. "Sorry. I only remember getting knocked on my butt. Nothing else."

Myst groaned. She hated dead ends, and this one was the biggest of her career.

The sudden blaring of the facility's alarm, which only sounded in case of emergency, removed interest in their conversation, as well as the one between Fury and Ross, who were distracted themselves.

"Unauthorized Quinjet approaching," alerted F.R.I.D.A.Y., Stark's main user interface that was patched in with the facility's network, including the intercoms.

Everyone stepped outside to see the unauthorized Quinjet land in the training field.

Dozens of agents had assault rifles trained on the lowered ramp, unsure of who or what would descend it. For all some of them knew, it could have been Bruce Banner or his giant emerald alter-ego.

Instead, it was Ciciley Livingston.

"Moms," Elendriel whispered. Myst noted her concerned surprise.

"Hold your fire," Fury ordered the agents, approaching Ciciley with the biggest smile his face could have collected. "I didn't think I'd see you again so soon."

Ciciley smirked. "Well, these _are_ strange times."

Looking past her, Fury saw others moving down the ramp, from a diverse group of individuals he recognized as the other Splitters to Hank Pym, a man whose presence there came as the greatest shocker.

The members of Helix also spotted their _former_ teammate, Oneida.

"Well, look who it is," Ava grumbled.

"The traitor," Tara hissed.

Oneida scowled in their general direction. "You betrayed yourselves. I was working for a better cause."

"What cause is worth insubordination?" An equally displeased Ross inquired.

"The one that gets my son back," Ciciley remarked. "Saccheri's experiment on my mother and son created these people here with us." She gestured to the Splitters – Fahr, Amanda, Marisa, Harley, Rose, Heather, and Terryan. "Only one of them is missing…no, scratch that, she was _taken_ by you people. Her name's Lee, and she's the only other one we need to bring Sean back."

"Well, I hate to break it to you, Ciciley," Ross sneered, "but she was broken out of our custody by a group we've yet to identify." He motioned to the facility's resident psychologist. "Dr. Nylen was the sole witness but hasn't been able to give us much to go on."

Ciciley's steely blue eyes flared, specifically towards Nylen. "Are you _kidding_ me?! You're taking _her_ word for it?! _She_ should be the one you're interrogating! She doesn't belong here! She's not one of us! She's not _human_!"

"Cici," Fury softly told her.

His soothing voice quickly put her at ease. He knew just how to talk to her, even when her emotions got the best of her.

"Uh, excuse me?" Hank spoke up, regaining his audience. "Speaking of people who don't belong here, how about we refocus on the reason _I'm_ here: using the equipment necessary for reformatting Ciciley's son."

"Is it still possible with one Splitter missing?" Elendriel questioned.

"It's a high probability, but I personally wouldn't recommend doing a half-baked job," Hank stated.

"I don't care," Ciciley imprudently barked. "If there's even the _least_ chance you can bring him back, with or without Lee, then let's do it – I want my boy back!"

Obliging to the request of a desperate mother, Hank proceeded on.

"This way." He led the assembly to one of the warehouses neighboring the New Avengers Facility.

Falling behind was Anne, who began to experience a nauseated feeling.

Lightly touching her forehead, she felt herself feverish.

Without notifying the others, she rushed off the premises.


	5. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four: Evolutionary Process**

Sterns had been given the keys to the proverbial Promised Land.

Once after the Skrull Queen left him to his work, he reestablished the HYDRA base of operations on Côn Sơn Island as his own.

It was the beginning of his oncoming conquest of humanity.

Deep inside the base, he discovered row-upon-row of test subjects submerged in liquid-filled tanks, all of them very much alive. HYDRA had done quite the number on them, every single one deformed beyond recognition.

 _Forgotten souls left to wallow underground for decades._

To Sterns, their imprisonment was as unjustified as his own under S.H.I.E.L.D.

They weren't locked away because they were a danger to society; they were locked away because society could never stomach their gross abnormalities. He was a man whose cranium had enlarged due to gamma-radiated blood introduced to a gaping wound – one he still had near his left temple.

Of course, there was one exception: Bruce Banner.

The man who he blamed and blessed for this new life he lived.

At great reluctance had society accepted the Hulk, following his heroic efforts in the Battle of New York; they lauded him as much as they feared him.

 _'Tis the world we live in where the_ _real_ _heroes are monsters and the_ _real_ _monsters are saviors._

Not anymore.

Sterns freed dozens of contained test subjects in the base.

Some of them had extra limbs, some had tails, some were quadrupedal, some had more than one pair of eyes, some were pale white, some were dark blue…

The list went on and on.

Any normal human being would be revolted by such figures; but Sterns no longer fell in such a category.

"You are in our gratitude, Мой освободитель!"

Sterns turned to hear the Russian-accented voice speak near him, but he saw no one. Then he looked down, finding a diminutive, heavily malformed man with a limp. His head was as oddly-shaped as his but manageable without a halo. His left arm was slightly smaller than his other; the same went for his eyes.

Before freeing this little man, Sterns got a good look at the dossier clipped in front of his tank. "Yuri Topolov," he identified the man. "You're Viktor Uvarov's earliest experiment – the Gargoyle."

"It is what he intended to make of me," Topolov said. "As you can see by my form, I was disappointment."

"His loss is my gain." Sterns placed a respectful hand on Topolov's shoulder. "You'll be my right-hand man, Yuri."

The little Russian was pleased to hear this, graciously bowing.

"I accept responsibility with honor, Мой освободитель!"

Sterns looked on the congregation of oddities he liberated.

Their faces all registered the same sense of lost, waiting for someone to lead them.

"My Forgotten," Sterns began. "Brothers and sisters, like me, you have been discarded from the world…left to be nothing else but humanity's living waste! That all ends today! It is a _new_ day for us! From this day, the world will look _up_ on us, not down!"

His impromptu speech was met with rigorous howls from his new colony.

"Sterns!"

At the beckoning of his name, he turned to see a pair of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, explicitly the green-skinned, pointy-eared ones that operated under the Skrull Queen. With them was an eight-foot steel crate Sterns had seen before – one marked "DANGER" on its hull.

It was one of many gifts the Queen had to offer him.

Prying it open via a code-specific keypad, he found the sedated body of a young Portuguese woman, the one named "Lee." One of the fragmented souls of S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Sean Livingston, created by experimentation under Sterns' old associate, John Saccheri. She was the last piece of a very intricate and genomic puzzle. Sterns knew of her existence for some time, controlling her and most every other enhanced individual within an unsurmountable radius from the Raft.

Yuri saw how overjoyed Sterns was about the normal-looking young woman.

"You are pleased, Мой освободитель? Is there any more you desire?"

"Oh, I already have a guy who's got me covered," Sterns assured the little Russian.

He inched closer to the sedated Lee, removing the I.V. that had been stuck into her left forearm, feeding her the drugs that kept her anesthetized. As soon as the supply was cut off from her system, her dark brown eyes opened for the first time in months.

Through hazy vision, the first thing she perceived was the eerily-grinning face of a man with an enlarged cranium supported by a halo.

"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty."

* * *

Hank truthfully figured his old laboratory on grounds formerly owned by Stark Industries to have been tampered with under management of Howard's spoiled, armor-obsessed son.

It wasn't long ago that he sent Scott Lang there to infiltrate one of the warehouses, while wearing his old Ant-Man suit.

He shouldn't have been surprised to see the lab was kept just as he remembered.

Plastic sheets prevented dust contamination over much of the equipment, including one massive machine housed at the center.

"What the heck is _that_?!" Elendriel asked. "Looks like a giant centrifuge."

"That's _exactly_ what it is," Hank told her. "We'll place the Splitters in there, so that each of their bodies will be atomized and reformed into what we can _hope_ will be your son, Ciciley."

His depiction of the process unsettled Heather, holding her infant son slightly tighter in her arms. "I don't know if I can go through with this," she professed. "I mean, what about my baby? Who's gonna take care of him once after we're 'reformed' or whatever."

Looking her way, Ciciley pitied the woman who just recently became the mother to a boy that was retrospectively her grandchild, being that he was born out of a copy of her son.

"Sean will take care of him – I just know he will," she promised Heather. "If you're still a part of him, after he's stepped out of that thing, then he'll treat that lil' fella with as much love as _you_ have."

Heather still had her doubts, but she trusted Ciciley's judgment.

Reluctantly, she handed John to Oneida, who immediately took to the child, making kissy faces at his smiling, cooing face.

Hank led each of the seven present Splitters into the centrifuge.

Inside, he strapped them to inclined platforms.

Sealing the centrifuge shut, he moved to the controls and activated the machine.

The centrifuge spun like a carnival ride, gaining momentum each second. It emitted a bright white glow that engulfed the entire lab, blinding everyone.

Soon they heard agonized screams within the spinning centrifuge.

"It's _killing_ them!" Ciciley yelled. "Shut it down, Hank!"

"We can't!" Pym denied. "Once the process has started, it's only gonna stop when _it_ wants to!"

The screams were drowned out by a high-pitched sound.

Then the centrifuge ceased rotation, as well as glowing.

With the press of a single button, Hank reopened the machine, releasing a huge puff of vapor. Beyond it, they saw what appeared to have been an amniotic sac with a rapidly developing fetus inside.

"What in the name of…?" A nauseated Ross uttered at the aberration.

It sat at the center of the space within the centrifuge.

Growing from infancy into preteen age, the fetus ripped itself out of the sac.

What they anticipated was a thirty-year-old African American man to emerge out of the centrifuge; instead, a young, short blond Caucasian girl stood stark naked before them.

Her bright blue eyes gazing Ciciley's way, she breathed, "Moms?"


	6. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five: Mistakes of the Past**

 **Anaheim, California – 1996**

" _Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday, dear Sean! Happy Birthday to youuuuuuuu!_ "

Right at the second his mother and sister finished singing, Sean blew out all ten candles of a birthday cake designed after the S.H.I.E.L.D. emblem to congratulatory applause. Elendriel took the extinguished candles out one-by-one, while Ciciley hugged her ten-year-old boy tight and kissed his curly-haired hair.

"My little man is ten years old now," she enthused. "Where has time gone?"

"So, what did you wish for?" Elendriel asked her little brother.

"To be a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent!" Sean buoyantly blurted out.

"Now, Sean," Ciciley began. "You know a wish is something you have to keep to yourself. If you say it aloud, it won't come true."

"Yeah," Elendriel agreed. "It's like never seeing your bride's face before the wedding."

Sean's face twisted in disgust. "I ain't gettin' married!"

Ciciley and Elendriel erupted in laughter.

"I've missed this," Ciciley emotionally reflected, looking over the small yet humbling party held in their kitchen. "I've looked forward to finally spending a birthday with my beautiful girl and handsome little man."

"We're glad you can, too, Moms," Elendriel said. "You've been retired for how many years now?"

"A few," she told her teenaged daughter. "And it's been the _best_ few of my life."

Just as Ciciley started cutting the cake, the doorbell rang.

"Seriously?!" Elendriel miserably groaned.

"I'm sure it's just Mister Charles from next door wanting to wish Sean a happy birthday," Ciciley reasoned as she went to answer the door.

She opened it to find, standing at her doorstep, an eyepatch-wearing African American gentleman with a hi-top fade and dressed entirely in black. In his hands, he carried a box gift-wrapped in blue and grey colors.

"Nicholas," she addressed him in surprise.

"NICK FURY?!"

She heard her starstruck son and daughter rush to the door, in order to see the legendary S.H.I.E.L.D. director up close.

"I hope to God I get to work for you one day," Elendriel said with the utmost sincerity. "It's been my dream ever since I was a little girl!"

"But you _are_ a little girl," Sean indicated.

" _Shut up_ ," Elendriel grittily muttered to him.

"Kids, go have some cake while Mister Fury and I talk," Ciciley directed her children, and they did as their mother requested, leaving her alone with the S.H.I.E.L.D. director and her lifelong friend. "There's a birthday present in your hand, Nicholas. But something tells me you're not here for a piece of cake."

Fury frowned. "No, I'm afraid this isn't a social visit. You've been reported to the Mojave Desert A.S.A.P. for an important assignment."

It was just what she anticipated him to be there for.

"Nicholas," she berated under her breath, trying her best not to let her children hear. "I'm _retired_ , man! I mean, this is my son's birthday party you're crashing, for cryin' out loud! Why don't you go bother Nicole instead? I'm sure she'll be more than ready to—"

"Nicole's dead, Ciciley."

Ciciley grew cold from this chilling news, regarding her adopted sister.

"When?" She could only bring herself to ask.

"Yesterday," Fury confirmed. "They say it was accidental."

"You know in our line of work, _nothing_ is 'accidental'."

"Nonetheless, your presence at the Mojave base is imperative."

Ciciley gave a despondent sigh, unable to see any way out of this situation.

"Fine," she relented. "Just let me first tell my kids that their mother won't be celebrating any future birthdays."

She turned to do the unfortunate deed…

…only to see her daughter and son standing right near her.

As much as she wanted them not to have heard the entire conversation, they did.

It was clear by the tears she saw in Sean's eyes, right before he rushed upstairs, abandoning his own birthday party.

Elendriel, arms folded with a deep scowl on her face, walked off in disgust.

The devastation in her children would be a lasting memory her broken heart would soon rather to forget.

* * *

 **Present Day**

Bearing a slight resemblance to a preteen Chrissy Livingston, the short, young girl that emerged from the centrifuge sat in the New Avengers Facility's kitchen and ate away a whole pizza way bigger than her body. She was considerately fitted with a jacket and pants branded with the Avengers insignia.

While she feasted beside the resident cook, Chef Stanford, Ciciley observed the girl along with everyone else.

"Well, she's certainly got the appetite of a teenager," Elendriel jested.

"And yet she's got Sean's memories," Ciciley noted. "Did you see how she looked at me and called me 'Moms'?" She concentrated on Pym. "Hank, what happened?"

"It's like I'd explained to you," he said. "The process was half-baked."

"We didn't figure you meant that _literally_ ," Elendriel remarked. "What do we even call him… _her_ …now? Sean? Chrissy?"

"Sienna." They heard the preteen girl say.

She had been sitting in close proximity of their discussion, hearing every word.

"How did you settle on that?" Ciciley asked her.

Sienna shrugged. "Dunno. It just came to me out of nowhere."

Now that they had her attention, Ciciley proceeded with her inquiries: "What do you last remember before waking up in that centrifuge?"

"It was right after I walked out of Liberty Base, when I found out the truth about Yamila," Sienna recalled. "Grandmamma and I were by the shore and talking before we were abducted by Saccheri. He took us both to this warehouse by the docks where he experimented on our DNA – he claimed that Grandmamma's was alien in origin, which I thought was total garbage. Then he did this thing where he broke down her body and fed all her molecules into me. I've never seen or _felt_ anything like it."

Ciciley and Elendriel remembered that night vividly; it was the same evening of the Super-Skrull incident in Hell's Kitchen – the night that Ciciley lost her mother all over again.

"Anything else happen after that?" Elendriel prodded.

Sienna shook her head. "Just waking up butt-naked in that centrifuge with the body of a pre-pubescent girl."

"So you don't remember being any of the Splitters?" Myst queried.

"The _what_?!" Sienna puzzlingly reacted.

"Interesting," Hank said, stroking his goatee. "In fusing the Splitters back together, we've also rebooted everything in Sienna, leaving only the memories and personality of Sean. The DNA, on the other hand, is dominated by Chrissy, hence the young lady sitting in front of us now."

Ciciley wretchedly moaned. "No, _no_! I want my _boy_ back, Hank! Not a carbon copy of him!"

"But I'm _still_ me, Moms," Sienna reassured.

She could barely glance the girl's way, heartbroken. "Sorry. I'm not convinced."

Sienna felt cold. She wish there was more she could say to convince Ciciley, but nothing came to mind.

Neither would she have the opportunity, if she could.

Out of nowhere, the entire facility shook while a loud, monstrous roar reverberated.

Ross reacted immediately to the situation, contacting security.

"Somebody talk to me! What's happening?!"

"We've been breached, sir!"

"Breached by what?"

"Sir, it's the Abomination!"

Ross lost all sensation in his body when that name stabbed at his eardrum like a sharpened dagger.

"The Abomination" was the given moniker of a creature born out of the mutated body of Emil Blonsky, a solider Ross recruited to apprehend Bruce Banner. Eventually, Blonsky became his guinea pig, nourishing him a bootleg of the Super Soldier serum that powered Captain America. That was before Samuel Sterns, a college professor who doubled as a mad scientist, amplified his already-tampered biology to a monstrosity that equaled in size and strength to the Hulk.

"That's impossible," Ross told security. "Blonsky has been on ice in Alaska for eight years. He couldn't possibly—!"

Tormented screams rang through communications.

It didn't take much imagination to picture the massacre on the security personnel.

After the displeasure of hearing several men and women murdered, Ross heard the petrifying growl across the static frequency.

"Ross," hissed the voice of Blonsky's Abomination. "It's been a long time since Harlem. You chose Banner over me – tried to have me eliminated! I've heard how his green friend is part of his own superhero club now. Where _is_ the Hulk, General?"

"I don't know."

"Don't _lie_ to me."

"He's not here, Blonsky! I don't know where Banner is, but he's not here! C'mon, Blonsky! There are children in this facility!"

"You're holding something much more precious than children, General."

"What is it that you want?"

Their link in communications was severed, yet Ross could still hear the Abomination rampaging elsewhere in the complex.

In response, Ross flew into general mode, focusing on the Helix team.

"Find the Abomination and _stop_ him at whatever cost," he roared.

"Yes, sir," Myst obliged, leading her team out of the kitchen.

Meanwhile, Fury patched himself in with the intercom: "All personnel, evacuate the facility immediately! I repeat…all personnel, _evacuate_!"

"Oneida," Elendriel addressed the former Helix team member. "Keep Karter and John safe in the nursery."

"Of course," Oneida acknowledged, hurrying to the location right after.

"I'm going with Helix," Yamila insisted.

Ciciley moved fast to block her youngest daughter's path. "No! You're not ready for a monster like the Abomination."

"I can take him," Yamila argued. "I took Yve Ette, didn't I?"

"Yve Ette was a calculated sorceress, and you had _other_ sorceresses to help you," Ciciley refuted. "This is a killing machine we're talking about here. You've never seen the Abomination in action like we have."

"She's right, lil' sis," Elendriel vouched. "Imagine the Hulk, only angrier and smarter with murderous intentions."

Hank grew unsettlingly overwhelmed each passing second.

"Where's Banner when we need him?" he griped.

His inquiry urged Ciciley to notice something off about the people remaining in the kitchen area. "For that matter, where's Anne been this whole time?"

Adding to the confusion, Elendriel queried, "Wait. Where did Sienna go?!"

Sure enough, the preteen was notably absent, leaving behind a half-consumed pizza on the table.

* * *

Blonsky expected better resistance to his onslaught inside the headquarters of "Earth's Mightiest Heroes," as the media referred them. Regrettably, there was no Iron Man, no Captain America, no Thor, and especially no Hulk that challenged him. The facility was all his to destroy as he pleased.

He reached the main hangar after ravaging through most of the upper levels.

To his amusement, he finally met the superhero opposition he predicted, but it came from a group of heroes that were merely "Discount Avengers" in his eyes.

Three women.

A young brunette who could transform her body into mist.

A much older redhead who turned herself into wild, white-furred bipedal yeti of some kind that was as intimidating and strong as the Hulk.

And a big, tough-looking Italian woman who was hardly a physical match.

Blonsky made short work of the Italian, punching her to the ground with such immense force that it cratered the marbled flooring. He could hear _and_ feel her bones crunch beneath his bulbous fist.

He wanted to see his gory handiwork before he was sidelined by the yeti.

Their tussle generated some heavy damage over the hangar that included the destruction of a few Quinjets.

The mist woman attempted to obscure his vision, but it worked to no avail.

Then he heard gunshots, sensing something akin to mosquito bites across his back.

Delivering an uppercut that sent the yeti/woman creature into the nearest wall, Blonsky turned to see who dared to fire at him.

Another blast flew into his face, directing his attention downward.

 _You've gotta be kidding me!_

It was his first thought as he saw a preteen girl, unloading a pair of handguns on Blonsky to no effect.

"Is S.H.I.E.L.D. running a kindergarten now?!" Blonsky jested.

He charged for the girl, endeavoring to end her quickly with one huge stomp.

She was too fast for him, dodging out of the way just as his enormous foot imprinted on the floor.

He swiped at her to get a good grip on an arm or a leg he could snap like a twig.

But the girl moved with such superhuman levels of agility, speed, reflexes, and reactions that Blonsky experienced déjà vu to the time he was on the other side of this spectrum, hocked up on the Super Soldier serum Ross shot into him to go toe-to-toe with the Hulk. He now knew how it felt being the bigger, slower goliath against the smaller, more agile opponent.

Growing frustrated, he resorted to the one move the Hulk executed on him back in Culver University – the one that shattered his whole body.

He brought up his right foot to kick the girl like a soccer ball.

"Goal!" He snarled to emphasize the symbolism, watching as the girl's body tumbled across the floor, crashing into equipment.

His victory was short-lived with another barrage of gunfire thrown at him.

However, this was more potent, successfully knocking Blonsky off his feet.

Dazed, he looked to where it came from, spotting Ciciley Livingston close nearby with a huge rifle of advanced design, glowing with scorching orange energy powerful enough to momentarily unbalance him.

"GET AWAY FROM MY SON!" She screeched, though Blonsky had not a clue as to who she was talking about; there were only women scattered among him.

Glaring at the seasoned S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, he noticed a young Cuban-looking woman beside her who gambled to step into the ring with him, much to the despair of Ciciley. It was just the open wound Blonsky needed to pick at. Whoever – _whatever_ – this woman was to Ciciley, she was extremely valuable to her…the perfect leverage.

The young Cuban woman leapt up high with one fist raised, ready to strike at Blonsky's face.

Unfortunately for her, she didn't get as much as a breath on him.

Blonsky snatched her while she was airborne.

Her entire body was consumed by his colossal grip.

"Agent Livingston!" He howled to Ciciley. "Come with me _now_ , or I'll crush her like a cheap Cuban cigar!"

"Don't do it, Ciciley! It's a trap!"

Blonsky heard the voice echo around him, yet he could not find the speaker.

Not until the disconcerted face of the young brunette materialized out of the mist.

He acted without delay, striking at the face and making contact with it.

The brunette reformed to her human state, collapsing to the floor; the ferocious blow she received had rendered her unconscious.

"Stop!" Ciciley forcefully demanded, dropping her rifle with a loud _clang_. "I'll go with your sorry butt! Just _don't_ hurt anybody else!"

Blonsky sinisterly grinned. "That's more like it."

He released the young Cuban woman out of his grasp, allowing her to breathe again after nearly having all the air squeeze out of her.

Ciciley permitted herself to be the next victim.

Blonsky took hold of her, bounding away from the New Avengers facility at unbeatable speed and height.


	7. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six: The Last Guardian**

177A Bleecker Street.

It was where Anne spiritually tracked Mindy's precise position, though she was too weak to travel there through her Guardian magic; every minute the energy force that drove it was drained out of her.

 _What is happening to me?_

That was the first thing she asked prior to hailing a taxicab.

And then, as she arrived on Bleecker Street, it hit her…

 _I've lost connection to Fantasia!_

The Disney realm where she was first reborn after her life as Sean Thomas – where she first received her abilities – was no more.

Her urgency rising, she knocked on the door to the building Mindy was in.

A uniquely dressed man with a goatee answered.

"You're the other one?" He asked her.

Anne grimaced. "The other what?"

"Is your name 'Anne'?"

She promptly blinked in suspicion. "Y-Yes, I am. Who are _you_?"

"Stephen Strange," he introduced himself. "I've been caring for your friend."

"You're the doctor?"

"You've heard of me?"

"Sort of."

Strange allowed her inside his sanctorum, welcoming her to the mystical dwelling that he not long ago called "home."

"I'm right here, Anne," Mindy called from the nearest room.

Anne figured she either heard her talking at the front door or their sorcerous connection helped her to sense her presence.

She walked in to find her past reincarnated form sprawled out on a couch.

"Oh, no," she gasped, rushing over.

Mindy was pale with dark circles around her eyes; she wheezed and coughed with every breath she took.

"We've lost Fantasia," she rasped.

Anne somberly nodded. "Yes, I know."

"I'm dying, Anne," Mindy said. "I came here with the hope that Doctor Strange could help me…but I see now that there's no hope for my situation. But you know what? It's alright. We've had some pretty good adventures in the Disneyverse and beyond. If this world I've grown so fond of is my final resting place, then that's O.K. with me."

"Not with _me_!" Anne angrily objected. "Mindy, if you die, _I_ die!"

Hearing that, Strange curiously wondered aloud, "Are you two…you know…?"

"I _wasn't_ speaking amorously," Anne grumbled to him. "We're spiritually connected, her and I. As a matter of fact, you could almost say we're the same person. The world we come from – where we were born – is gone, which means there's very little time for us in this realm."

"We can't fight fate, Anne," Mindy conceded.

"If we _are_ the last two Guardians left anywhere in the entire multiverse right now, we're not going to let fate decide that for us," Anne declared, " _we_ control fate!"

"So what do we do?" Mindy asked.

"One last merge," Anne proposed. "We create a new entity, just like JeniLynn, only this will be between the two of us. She will be the last of our kind – the last Guardian." She turned her eyes to Strange. "We're going to need your magic to help us do this. You're the only mystic source strong enough to complete the merge."

Strange scoffed at her recommendation.

"Me?! You're joking, right? I don't know if I've reached the aptitude to pull off something that…grandiose!"

"You have, you just don't know it," Mindy told him. "You're the Sorcerer Supreme."

Stephen raised a puzzled eyebrow. "The Ancient One was the Sorcerer Supreme. I'm still just a beginner."

"You won't be for very long," a confident Anne stated.

Left with no other choice, Strange commenced with the unusual process.

Mindy and Anne sat on opposite sides of the couch.

Strange stood between them, his arms outstretched and eyes closed, focusing.

In seconds, his gloved hands glowed in a bright reddish-orange, simultaneous with the atomizing of Mindy and Anne's bodies into an assortment of golden-rainbow sparkles. They formed together right in front of Strange.

Mindy's mechanical appendage dislodged, clattering to the floor.

He viewed the phenomenon with amazement as the sparkles developed a human shape that materialized into a girl in her late teens with hazel blonde hair. Soon after it was complete, the young woman focused her hazel eyes on Strange and spoke her first words in the form of a question:

"Did it work?"


	8. Chapter Seven

**Chapter Seven: The Living Weapon**

Long since his confinement in the Raft had Sterns been burdened with the halo brace S.H.I.E.L.D. placed on his enlarged cranium; its primary purpose was to block his telepathy, soon after it first manifested. Evidently, it only _partially_ blocked it, as he still had enough mental strength to reach Lee.

She stood there in his lab, watching him and Topolov, the latter having the pleasure of removing his brace.

Alas, the result of its removal was unsettling.

His swollen head was left hanging lopsided, much to his dismay.

So he had no other choice but to be confined to a wheelchair for the time being.

"I feel like that guy from _The Hills Have Eyes_ ," he cursed his predicament whilst turning his chair to face Lee. "I must say, it's an honor having you in my new legion."

"Who are you?" She asked him. "Why did you free me from the people that did me harm?"

"You already know who I am," Sterns said. "I was the one who reached out to you when you were lost and alone."

 _Our leader wishes to have you for the colony._

Lee deflected, hearing the words echo in her head.

"It was _you_ ," Topolov grasped _his_ head, seeming to also hear Sterns in his mind. "I heard your words when I was submerged…we _all_ heard you!"

"I don't remember hearing those words," Lee confessed.

"I programmed you to gather your other selves for my cause, but S.H.I.E.L.D. got a hold of them before me," Sterns divulged. "I could only get you, with a little help from some friends beyond the stars…and I intend to make good use of you in my uprising."

Confused, Lee shook her head. "I still don't remember."

"Don't worry your pretty little head," Sterns incited, fighting to keep _his_ upright.

"My leader," one of Sterns' followers – a tall, hunchbacked man with discolored skin – entered the lab without delay. "The Abomination has returned with his prize: the immortal S.H.I.E.L.D. woman."

Sterns excitedly jolted in his chair.

"Yuri," he beckoned. "Wheel me outside."

His new assistant did so, with Lee following close behind.

Swarmed by his legion, he greeted Blonsky near the base entrance; in the Abomination's massive, grotesque arms was Ciciley Livingston, who was more furious than frightened of the monster that abducted her.

Apprehension replaced anger as soon as Lee came into Ciciley's view.

Sterns reveled in watching the reaction, knowing exactly what Lee was to her.

"Surprise?" He probed.

Again, her demeanor shifted, vacantly looking on Sterns. "Hardly," she responded. "Raft surveillance showed you escaping in the first place. So you're not _that_ unpredictable, dude."

Sterns shrugged off her remark. "Regardless, I can read into your mind, and I can sense how curious you are. Not scared, surprisingly, but…curious."

"Returning to the island that's given me nightmares for years?" Ciciley mocked. "I've faced _worse_ nightmares in the last few, Sterns – a voodoo sorcerer from another dimension, an alien on steroids…the list goes on and on!"

"I know all this," Sterns said. "I'm reading you every second of this moment between us. I promise you that I have all the answers you're looking for."

With a single gesture of his right hand, he summoned the gathering back indoors.

Ciciley was forced by Blonsky to follow them in; a feeling of déjà vu swept over her as she stepped foot inside the decades-old HYDRA base.

 _It still has that same stench of death in the air_ , she psychologically surveyed.

She noticed an amused grin on Sterns' face, clearly hearing her cerebral observation. It was best for her to keep her internal monologues on mute around the mind-reading psychopath.

"The notes HYDRA kept on Viktor Uvarov's experiments on you have been an interesting read," Sterns reflected.

"Yeah, I bet you salivated at the part where Uvarov sliced open my intestines, didn't ya?" Ciciley berated him.

"Has S.H.I.E.L.D. ever told you what HYDRA did to you?"

"S.H.I.E.L.D. never told me _diddly_ because they respected my privacy, unlike _some_ people," she snootily retorted.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. – which, of course, was still moderately co-owned by HYDRA in those days – weren't able to maintain the documents of the experiment, due to being sold to the highest bidder, John Saccheri. Much of the sold documents focus heavily on your dear family, from Chrissy Livingston down to your son, Sean. You all have the _juiciest_ secrets hidden inside your DNA…easily manipulative DNA, I might add… by the slightest, most sensitive molecule. Isn't that what happened between your mother and your son?"

He tried to get under her skin more than he already had.

She maintained the urge to strangle him to death; it would have been so easy to do in his vulnerable state.

"But that isn't _anywhere_ close to impressive compared to what Uvarov did to you," Sterns continued in his babbling. "HYDRA turned you into their living weapon – one that would've _completely_ wiped humanity clear off the face of the earth. You only had to die for the toxic virus implanted in your heart to go airborne, specifically during your autopsy. Only one thing postponed the inevitable. And you know what that 'one thing' is, Ms. Livingston?"

"No," Ciciley carped. "But I'm sure you're going to tell me."

"Your little miracle at Project Geo," Sterns disclosed. "You can't die…but we're about to fix that." He motioned to two of his followers, a pair of men with disfigurements so severe they would've made John Merrick blush. "Gentlemen, prep her for surgery."

Ciciley became squeamish as the men laid their multiple appendages on her, taking her away from Sterns and his personal entourage.

"I finally sense that fear in you now, Ms. Livingston," he exposed on her way out. "All I had to do was open your mind…just like I'm gonna open your heart."

Standing beside Sterns, Lee watched as Ciciley was taken out of their sight.

She frowned in recognition. "I know that woman."

"You _think_ you do, my dear girl," Sterns said. "But don't worry…she'll soon be just a distant memory."


	9. Chapter Eight

**Chapter Eight: The Monster Hacker**

Most women, especially those who were Ivy's age, would have relished riding in a Lamborghini owned and driven by Iron Man himself, Tony Stark. In fact, such an occasion would be considered a dream come true.

Not in this case.

Ivy wasn't like most women. She wasn't a classy model or a famous reporter.

She was a hacker in a grey coat and a matching wool hat that covered her cropped blond hair. But she was not just any _common_ hacker; she was one that breached into the Stark Industries archives. It was all in an attempt in stealing Stark's "Rescue" suit – the piece of tech used in the Super Skrull attack on Hell's Kitchen over a year ago. Ivy intended to sell it on eBay for forty million dollars.

Stark could not have been more offended. "I would've certainly sold it for _sixty_ million," he asserted.

"Why aren't you turnin' me in?" Ivy queried. "The station is downtown, and we're headin' _upstate_ instead."

"I believe in second chances with gifted youths like you," Stark told her. "So I'm offering you a chance in putting the Rescue suit to use – way better than money to spend on a vacation home in Malibu."

The Lamborghini slowed while they turned on a stretch of road leading directly to the New Avengers Facility.

A tiny smile grew on Ivy's face. _He's gonna make me an Avenger._

She beamed at the thought of it, seeing Earth's mightiest heroes save the world several times on television. Sure, most of them caused countless destruction of property damage – hence the "Accords" that broke up the team – but no one can save the world without breaking a few eggs.

Ivy's enthusiasm dwindled, however, once she and Stark stepped foot in the facility and beheld the serious wreckage over every inch of it.

"Sure you don't want to add an extra sixty million for renovation?" Ivy teased.

"STARK!"

She jerked at the raging voice venting at the billionaire.

Thaddeus Ross, the Secretary of State, stormed their way.

Alongside him were eight other people that included Nick Fury and Hank Pym.

"Where have you been?!" Ross bellowed.

"I was busy dealing with my tech being hacked by this young lady here," Tony gestured to Ivy. He then paused for a second upon sighting a person of _his_ interest among Ross's congregation. "Is that Hank Pym or am I going crazy?"

"Don't get used to it, Stark," Pym smugly told him. "I'm only here temporarily."

"Tony, I don't accept 'hacking' as a main priority that oversteps being nearly plummeted by the Abomination," Ross snapped.

Stark stiffened with dread. "Blonsky was here?! He's an Alaskan ice cube!"

"Yeah, well, apparently he got out," a dejected Elendriel said.

"And he took our mother," an equally crestfallen Yamila added.

"To God only knows where," said Fury, who was hit the most by the occurrence.

"Well, do we have any leads?" Tony asked, going into his detective mode.

"No leads, just a hunch," Myst replied. "We suspect Blonsky's breakout in Alaska has to be in some relation to that of Samuel Sterns at the Raft."

Tony's gaze on the woman widened, overwhelmed by this new bit of information she spouted. "Whoa, whoa, time out. Samuel Sterns? As in the college professor-turned-nut job from Grayburn?"

"That's the one," Tara validated.

"Ohhhh-kay," Stark processed. "Someone care to explain how all this weird stuff is happening today."

Ivy suddenly chuckled beside him, shaking her head. "You people," she muttered.

Tony detected a lot of angry glares leering in her direction, particularly Ross's.

"Uh, remember what I said back in that _very_ expensive Lamborghini about not saying a word while we were in here?" He whispered to her.

"The Abomination is a big monster that'll trend in a heartbeat on Twitter," Ivy stated. "I can pinpoint _exactly_ where he is this moment through social media, Google Maps, and whatever else in ten minutes. All I need is access to a computer."

Elendriel's face crinkled in question. "I'm sorry, but _who_ is this girl?!"

"The name's Ivy," she remarked. "I'm a professional hacker."

Ross's ears sizzled. "Tony, are you out of your mind?! Bringing a _hacker_ into this facility?! A hacker who wants access to our computers?! There's no way I'm approving that!"

"Sir, my mother was _kidnapped_ by the Abomination," Elendriel overstepped. "If this girl is the only way of knowing where he's taken her, then I'm gonna let her hack her butt off."

"Yeah, _that_ doesn't sound right at all," Tony roasted.

An infuriated Ross looked on Elendriel as she led Ivy away.

He then centered his ire on Myst, who merely stood by. "Are you just gonna stand there while she insubordinates me?"

Myst smirked, admiring Elendriel's tenacity.

"I think I'm just gonna see how this all plays out, if you don't mind," she coyly responded, much to Ross's surprise (and resentment).

He marched away in a huff.

His departure prompted the rest of the group to disperse as well, except for Yamila. She found there was one party missing from the assemblage. Quickly, she rushed to Oneida and asked, "Where is Sienna?"

"Last I saw her, she was going into the men's room," Oneida told her. "Poor girl still thinks she has those privileges."

Both women headed to the restroom reserved for males on the double, making extra sure no men were there before entering.

They saw one of the stalls closed and presumed it to be where Sienna was.

"Honey, you O.K.?" Oneida checked.

"I'm not sure _what_ I am anymore."

The voice on the other side of the stall door had a slightly matured register to it.

"Sienna…Sean," Yamila hoped that referring to her by the name of her original self would appeal to her. "Please come out. We can help."

"I don't know if you can, Yamila," Sienna said.

The stall door opened gradually; its occupant hesitated in stepping out.

Yamila and Oneida gasped.

It was a girl who resembled Sienna standing there in the stall, yet she was seven years older and a whole foot taller, barely able to fit in the clothes provided for her earlier.

"I think we may have a _serious_ problem," the girl whimpered.


	10. Chapter Nine

**Chapter Nine: Sierra**

 **New York City – 2012**

Ciciley's eyes were glued to the television set the whole time her personal physician, Dr. Joseph Quesada, performed her routine checkup. There was a newscast updating on the rebuilding of the city since the invasion of the Chitauri a few months prior. It was the first time the world had witnessed the rise of the Avengers – the group of remarkable people Nick Fury and S.H.I.E.L.D. gathered for their initiative.

Nick once shared the idea with her while they were stationed at Liberty Base; but she didn't think he would get as far as he did that day.

"Crazy, isn't it?" She heard Dr. Quesada arbitrarily tell her. "These superheroes in New York…these 'Avengers,' as they call them…pretty crazy stuff, amirite? I mean, what's next? Magic wizards?"

"What's the matter with me, Joe?"

"Why would you automatically assume somethin's wrong?"

"Because any moment when a physician makes small talk with their patient, it usually follows with them delivering the bad news. I'm sixty years old, Joe. So let's cut all the baloney and just give it to me straight, Doc."

Quesada sighed discouragingly. "O.K., Cici. Here it is: there's a major issue with your heart."

"Well, _I_ could've told you _that_ between the shortness of breath and numbness in my left arm."

"I can suggest every remedy for heart disease known to man, but what I can _only_ suggest for your case is surgery."

She hated just the term more than the idea itself.

"What if I ride it out? How long would I have then?"

"You told me to give it to you straight, Cici, and this is me giving it to you straight: you would have a month at most to live. Though I can't understand _why_ you would want to hinder yourself like that."

Ciciley's countenance hardened.

"I don't really see too much to live for these days, Joe. My son and daughter pretty much said 'To Heck' with me before running off to S.H.I.E.L.D. I got no one left to mourn."

Her misery came to an abrupt conclusion at the ringing of her cell phone.

Surprised to see the name "Sean Livingston" on the caller I.D., she answered straightaway: "Sean? Is that you?" She hadn't been in touch with him for years; it seemed only reasonable to question whether or not it was really her son on the other end.

"Yeah, it's me, Moms," he didn't sound all too pleased to speak to her. "I just wanted to let you know that Fury has invited me on board Project Geo."

Ciciley leapt right out of her wing chair with energy Dr. Quesada could hardly begin to fathom where she gathered it from her elderly, withered body. "He did _what_?!" She bellowed into the phone.

"Yeah, I'm about to see the Sphere for myself," Sean told her. "I'm about to see how much this thing was worth more than family."

"No! Sean! Wait! Don't go! You don't—!"

Too late. The call had ended once he hung up without so much as a "Goodbye."

"I'm going to California," Ciciley avowed.

"You what?!" Dr. Quesada reacted. "Are you nuts?! You're in _zero_ condition to travel anywhere!"

Ciciley was unrelenting.

She was already on her way out of her apartment with her purse and keys.

Dr. Quesada knowingly looked on, shaking his head. "Stubborn old broad," the physician muttered after she was out of earshot.

* * *

 **Côn Sơn Island (Present Day)**

 _Stubborn old broad._

Ciciley knew somewhere in the base Sterns could hear that opinion of herself in her mind, but she couldn't care less at the moment.

Stripped naked and strapped to an operating table, she was left lying alone in the very same room where she was forty-five years ago, before Hank Pym rescued her. It should have spooked her to the core, yet she upheld a brave face. Sterns might've sensed _some_ fear inside her; she wasn't giving him the satisfaction of seeing it _outside_ of her.

The wheels of his mobile chair squeaked as he was carted into the lab by his deformed assistant, Yuri Topolov.

"Oh, Miss Livingston…the things I'm about to do to you," he gloated. "I'm finally living my dream."

"Your dream is to play _Operation_ on a living, breathing woman?" She jabbed.

Sterns snickered at her dry sense of humor. "Allow me to elaborate: Humanity is a disease that must be purified. Only the lesser can be the stronger."

"Spoken like a true HYDRA zealot," Ciciley chastised.

"I was never one for fawning over factions, particularly not S.H.I.E.L.D. – I can't _stand_ those guys," Sterns stated. "It was only after I studied HYDRA's scientific records that I grew to be an admirer. Of course, HYDRA is a dead stick these days, and the Forgotten will be what remains in its wake."

At Sterns' bidding, Topolov wheeled him closer to the surgical tray.

From her flat stance, Ciciley guffawed, "Think you might have a problem operating on me in your current state, Doc."

"Oh, you mean _this_?" Sterns gestured to his bulging, disproportionate head. "As a matter of fact, I've just figured out how to solve this _minor_ issue."

Slowly, his head began to vibrate and elevate upright – his neck crackling.

Ciciley was admittedly troubled by the miraculous circumstance.

"That's a neat trick," she uttered. "Gotta be one _monster_ strain on your neck."

"Not at all," Sterns said, rising out of his wheelchair. "I simply let telepathy do all the work." Demonstrating the level of his mental power, he summoned a scalpel from the surgical tray and hoisted it over Ciciley's bare abdomen. "Now I know this isn't your first vivisection, so I'm just gonna get right to it."

He dug the scalpel deep into her skin.

Ciciley's anguished screams echoed throughout the base.

From afar, Lee watched, tears subconsciously streaming down her face.

* * *

News moved fast around the New Avengers Facility about the instant maturation of Sienna, who modified her name to "Sierra" for the new appearance. She sat in the conference room with a few of her friends and family examining her like a specimen beneath the lens of a microscope.

"She looks even more like Grandmamma now than before," Elendriel noted.

"I noticed the same thing when I looked in the bathroom mirror," Sierra acknowledged. "I felt the change happen when I used those new enhanced abilities I inherited."

"A side effect to the fusion process," Hank concluded. "You've inherited each of the individual abilities of the fragments. As you continue to develop them, you yourself will physically develop _with_ them."

"Great," Sierra griped. "I'm going through _super_ puberty – as a girl."

"Well, _that_ sucks," expressed a nonchalant Tony Stark, who walked into the proceedings. "Hey, _I've_ got some good news: Ivy managed to get a trace on Blonsky."

"You gonna tell us where she found him or do we have to _pay_ for the intel?" Ross begrudgingly asked the billionaire.

As much as it pleasured to watch the Secretary of State annoyed, Stark did the proper thing and spilled what he knew: "His last known whereabouts were near Cambodia."

"What would be in Cambodia for Blonsky to take Ciciley there?" Myst pondered.

"The site of a HYDRA base that Project Orion – Ciciley's squadron – infiltrated during the Vietnam War," Hank verified, drawing all eyes on him.

"Moms fought in 'Nam?" Elendriel staggered.

Sierra was just as flabbergasted. "She never told us that."

"She doesn't consider it such an honor, not after HYDRA tortured and experimented on her there," Hank revealed.

Elendriel covered her mouth in distress.

As horrified as she was by this information, she was also curious.

"What kind of experiments?" She drilled Hank.

Hank hesitantly shook his head. "This isn't something you kids should be hearing about your mother."

"No, Hank, she's right," Fury backed. "Whatever you know that happened to Ciciley back then might help in knowing what Blonsky's intentions are."

"Alright," Hank moaned. "But don't say I didn't warn you."


	11. Chapter Ten

**Chapter Ten: Immortal No More**

Ciciley's screams discontinued…just as Sterns' vivisection had.

He emerged from the operating room, his hands caked in blood and a mesmerized look manifested on his face.

Lee, Topolov, and Blonsky stood by, patiently waiting for their leader to emerge.

"I've done the impossible," he exulted to his followers. "I've turned an immortal woman back into a mortal again. What I found inside that woman…What that machine S.H.I.E.L.D. kept in the Mojave did to her…it's _unbelievable_! And I've taken it all for myself!"

"What do you mean?" Blonsky questioned.

Responding to the Abomination's inquiry, Sterns – without warning – retrieved a firearm he concealed behind his back and, not having a second thought, shot himself in the head.

Stunned and bewildered by the act, Lee and Blonsky watched his body fall.

"MY LEADER!" Topolov devastatingly shrieked.

He was on the cusp of dashing over to his body when Sterns suddenly arose.

The bullet wound in his globular skull sealed up; the bullet itself spat out, left clinking to the floor.

The veins in his expanded forehead pulsated, glowing green.

Topolov was as relieved as he was terrified. "Мой руководитель! I thought you were dead!"

"I was," Sterns confirmed. "And, like Christ, I rose again!"

"So you _did_ take Livingston's immortality," Blonsky noted.

"Will she live?" a disconcerted Lee asked.

Noticing her concern, Sterns sneered, "She will… but old age will eventually catch up with her. May take a month or even a week, but soon enough she'll just be plain ol' Ciciley Livingston again – and HYDRA's little life insurance plan on her will be our advantage."

"So what do we do with her in the meantime?" Blonsky asked.

"Keep her on ice," Sterns said. "I'm sure one of the cryogenic chambers here still works good enough." His forehead veins throbbed again. "S.H.I.E.L.D. has been snooping around, looking for you, Blonsky."

The Abomination's nostrils flared, snarling.

"Don't be so upset, my friend," Sterns calmed him. "I anticipated this. Now we can get my legion ready for war."

* * *

"I feel like I'm gonna be sick."

Sierra's sentiment was mutual among everyone after hearing Hank Pym's sickening recount of all that happened on Côn Sơn Island. It was too much for Ava specially, prompting her to rush out of the conference room, covering her mouth.

"Boy, you know it's disturbing when _she_ gets sick," Tony quipped at the Helix team member's expense.

"Don't joke, Stark – not about _this_ ," an insulted Hank advised. "None of what happened to Ciciley is worth your insensitive wit! You didn't see what _I_ had to see when I busted her from that hellish nightmare, forty-five years ago!"

His overprotective tone suggested something to Elendriel: "You two were in love with each other."

Hank froze for a brief moment, reflecting on what Ciciley's eldest accurately presupposed. "We were lovers _before_ Vietnam," he confessed. "But we were never serious. Not until after the war…after Côn Sơn Island. I wanted us to have a life together, leaving S.H.I.E.L.D. behind, but Ciciley had changed after the war. I never heard from her again 'til today."

Hearing Pym pour his heart out, Elendriel inquisitively glanced over to Fury.

She noticed his evident jealousy of Hank and Ciciley's relationship, yet he wisely did not to speak his mind.

"Blonsky must've taken Moms to the island to figure out whatever it was HYDRA did to her," she surmised, returning their focus to the matter at hand.

"Blonsky was always such a power-crazed maniac," Ross said, "which is how he came to _be_ the Abomination in the first place."

"And the man that got him that way was Samuel Sterns," Sierra added. "It can't be coincidence that Sterns broke out of the Raft at the same time Blonsky did in Alaska. They were either helping each other across the world, or they had help from the outside."

"You'll have to enlighten me, Agent," Ross told Sierra. "I don't see how it's possible how those men busted out of maximum security prisons with or without help. They would've needed connections that couldn't exist on Earth."

His contradicting statement gave revelation to Elendriel: "Oh, man."

"What is it?" Myst asked her.

"Last year, there was a situation in which we dealt with a couple of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents that were Skrull infiltrators," Elendriel reminisced. "They didn't need some spy tactics or computer hacking to get themselves in. They did it purely by their own interstellar methods."

"What's your point, sis?" Sierra grilled.

"My point is that it wasn't HYDRA or any other force _on_ Earth that got Sterns and Blonsky out," Elendriel concluded. "It was the Skrulls!"

"Why would those intergalactic hobgoblins want to help regular freaks like Sterns and Blonsky?" Tony queried.

"To make it easy for them to invade our planet, that's why," Fury said. "This has now become a Priority One situation, people. It's gonna require the expertise of everyone in this room. If we had Avengers, they would be of great help by now; but thanks to some piece of paper that says we _can't_ take action when necessary, we're down to only a few Avengers at hand." He centered his attention on Tony. "Stark, is our robot friend with the alien stone in his head available?"

Tony shrugged. "Vision's still figuring things out after the spat in Leipzig with Wanda Maximoff."

"I find it amusing how _human_ he's becoming these days," Myst stated.

"Well, what you find 'amusing,' I find to be a monumental pain in the butt," Tony countered.

"You don't need one of your drones for this, Stark, 'cause you got _me_ ," Hank boldly volunteered. "This is no way on God's green earth makes me one of your superhero flunkies. This is just me doing what I do best: cleaning up your messes."

Stark nodded approvingly. "Fair deal. But will you be able to keep up with us?"

"I got a few tricks to even kick _your_ tail," Hank remarked.

"Then suit up, people," Fury commanded.

"Now just wait a minute," Ross sternly interposed. "Fury, you're forgetting who's in charge here."

"No, I didn't forget – I just don't care," he snapped.

"You challenge my authority, you'll find yourself in the deepest hole imaginable," Ross threatened. "And I don't mean that pathetic love shack you were stationed at beneath Liberty Island."

Not one to take such threats, Fury retorted, "Let me tell you something, _Mister Secretary_. Say that I _don't_ accept your bluff, and you put me in that deep hole. And let's say that several billion people _die_ , all because you let the Accords decide the world's fate. While I'll be cozying up in that deep hole, you'll be nibbling on the barrel of a gun, wondering if that's the moment you pull the trigger, unable to bear the brunt of those several billion lives _you_ could've saved this very day."

He painted a morbid picture that chilled everyone there in the conference room.

But no one was deterred more so than Ross.

"We'll deploy," he yielded. "But only at _my_ supervision."

The team commenced in preparations for their mission.

While doing so, Sierra pulled Elendriel aside and asked, "What's all this talk about 'Accords' and not being able to take action when necessary? Elle, what happened to the Avengers?"

There was so much her brother (now sister) had missed in his existence as the different Splitters.

The events of Sokovia.

The Civil War.

Elendriel was not sure where to begin.

She was just about to explain before her phone chimed; according to the I.D., the caller was Mindy.

"Thank God," Elendriel huffed prior to answering the call. "Mindy, where are you?!"

"Sorry, Elle. I got sidetracked with something."

The voice on the other end sounded radically different; it was much younger, possibly a teenager.

Elendriel glimpsed at the caller I.D., which still read as "Mindy."

"Who is this?!" She asked the young woman. "How did you get Mindy's phone?"

"Sorry, I forgot who I was…er, who I _am_ now," the girl said. "I go by 'Jade' now – the result of a the final merge between Mindy and Anne. I owe it all to the guy I'm with, Doctor Strange."

Elendriel cringed at the name. "Doctor _who_?!"


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Chapter Eleven: The Battle of Côn Sơn Island**

"I'll explain more about it on my way back to the facility."

Jade listened to the voice of Elendriel on the other line.

"Côn Sơn Island? I think I know where that is. Why is everybody going there?"

She paused again to hear Elendriel's short explanation.

"Wow. A lot _did_ go on while I was away. Well, I'll be on my way there to help."

The phone call ended there, allotting her a moment to check back with Stephen Strange, the man who had been more than plenty help to her in the last few hours. She found him just as he stepped out of his study, closing the sliding doors behind him. As he did so, she caught a fleeting peek into the room, recognizing a rugged man with long blond hair sitting inside.

"Did you get in touch with your friends?" Strange asked her.

Jade nodded. "They need my help down south of Vietnam. You should come with us. Show them what you can do."

"Be one of their Avengers, you mean?" Stephen scoffed. "As tempting as _that_ would be, I've just already made an engagement with two gods and what I'm guessing is an alien."

"I got you," Jade said. "Best of luck on your journey, Doctor Strange."

"You, too, Guardian of the Disneyverse."

Strange returned to his study, while Jade proceeded towards the front door.

On her way out of the Sanctorum, she passed a tall, black rectangular solid that was never there earlier when she arrived as both Mindy and Anne.

She dismissed it as purely another one of the Sanctorum's oddities.

* * *

The team was all prepared to deploy for their mission to Côn Sơn Island.

Sierra was the last person to get suited up, bearing a suit Hank once invented to suppress unstable atomic particles in the human body. He theorized it would assist in sustaining Sierra's unstable molecules during the fight, preventing her age from accelerating again.

She decided to stop by the nursery, where Oneida had been watching over Karter and John, the latter being the son of the Splitter named Heather. Elendriel informed Sierra of this a while ago, motivating her into paying a visit to the child who was conceivably _her_ son in retrospect.

"How's he doing?" She asked Oneida, who was a natural nanny, nursing baby John in her tender arms.

"He was a little fussy earlier, but he's doing just fine now."

"Can I hold him?"

"Certainly."

Gently, Oneida handed the swaddled infant over to Sierra.

She looked down at his tiny mocha face, smiling and giggling back at hers.

"He looks so much like me when I was as little as him," Sierra gushed. Her face felt wet, just as a droplet fell on John's left cheek. "I'm crying," she realized. "Why am I crying?"

Oneida smiled. "Maybe that's the part of you that hates leaving him behind to fight a psychopath."

Sierra knew Oneida had to be right about this.

There were still parts of all those people – those Splitters – she felt within her.

And Heather, John's birth mother, was no exception.

"I promise I'll come back for you," she whispered to her son, planting a kiss right on his small forehead.

* * *

It was thanks to Hank Pym's impeccable memory that the heroes accomplished in arriving at Côn Sơn Island in no time at all.

Elendriel landed the Quinjet right across from the abandoned HYDRA base that Sterns and his congregation of deformed zealots, who idly waited for the team's arrival out front, called "home."

Flanked by Lee, Blonsky, Topolov, and his legion, Sterns took one step forward as his adversaries piled out of the Quinjet. "I'm giving all of you a choice to turn away, go home, and watch your world burn…and yourselves with it."

"Yeah," said Tony, decked out in the latest design of his Iron Man armor. "I think all that power's gone to your head, Sterns."

Myst winced. "Really? We agreed no head jokes."

"You know how _I_ know I'm going to win this battle?" Sterns confidently probed. "Because I know all about the future. There's a great force out there in the cosmos who wants this planet _way_ more than any of us do."

"We already know that," Elendriel retorted. "They're called 'Skrulls,' and we had the pleasure of meeting _their_ abomination not so long ago."

"Oh, no, dear girl," Sterns snidely muttered. "I speak of some _one_ much higher than our green pointy-eared friends. Someone who rules with a _golden_ fist. Do you care to know his name?"

"What we _care_ about is where you're keeping Ciciley Livingston," Hank roared, with his fists clenched.

"I've been keeping Miss Livingston preserved," Sterns told them. "And, if you want her, then you'll just have to come and get her…"

Accepting his challenge, the heroes charged, ensuing in a massive skirmish.

Sterns and Topolov retreated into the base.

Blonsky, Lee, and the Forgotten legion clashed with the heroes of S.H.I.E.L.D., Helix, the Avengers, and anyone else that was an ally of theirs and an enemy to Sterns and his followers.

Ava transformed into her "Fera" form, engaging in a rematch against Blonsky with the assist of Tara, Yamila, and Myst.

Sierra combated against Lee.

Lee's superhuman strength proved to be a challenge, forcing Sierra to go all out with her newfound abilities, pushing the boundaries of Hank's specialized suit.

Their struggle was pushed into the jungle regions.

Lee had Sierra pinned down, her forearm pressed firmly against Sierra's throat and her face so close to hers that her hot breath seeped into Sierra's nostrils. "I don't know what it is, but I'm taking too much pleasure in kicking your butt," Lee hissed to her opponent.

"Ditto," Sierra could only manage to garble before using all her strength to flip Lee off of her.

The one-on-one between the two women intensified each second.

Ultimately, Lee brought it to a cruel conclusion by knocking down trees with her bare hands, toppling them over Sierra.

With Sierra surely dead, buried beneath over dozens of lumber, Lee considered herself the default victor. She turned to resume to the battlefield, until the timber pileup erupted into a bombardment of fiery splinters.

Lee refocused on what was to be Sierra's ligneous grave.

Out of it emerged a different woman – one with long, flaming red hair and an incredible bust size. She was dressed exactly the same as Sierra, only significantly taller and more matured.

Daunted by Sierra's new appearance, Lee's eyes squinted with familiarity.

"I know you," she murmured.

Taking advantage of her sudden distraction, Sierra swiftly advanced and knocked Lee out cold with an energized uppercut to the face.

The young Portuguese woman splashed face-first into a nearby pond.

Moving to it to check on her fallen challenger, Sierra was caught off guard from her reflection in the water. Only it was not the face of a teenager staring back at her; it was Chrissy Livingston, mother of Ciciley Livingston and grandmother to Sean, Elendriel, and Yamila.

It was what she had been evolving into the entire time: a pseudo-clone of Chrissy with the mind of Sean Livingston. She even felt powerful in this stage of her evolution, exerting the limitations of Hank Pym's stabilization suit.

Putting it to good use, she left behind the unconscious Lee and returned to battle.

There, on the field, Yamila and the three Helix team members were verging in defeating Blonsky with their combined efforts. Unfortunately, just as before in their previous bout back at the New Avengers Facility, the creature known as "The Abomination" overpowered the four women.

He had Fera by the throat, primed to snap it like a twig.

That was when a sharp, intense pain besieged his abdomen, forcing him to release his hold on Fera. He looked down, seeing a gaping, singed hole where his chest used to be, his internal organs drooping from it.

"I should've erased you years ago, Blonsky!"

Thaddeus Ross.

In his final moments, Blonsky spotted his former C.O. standing several feet across, brandishing a bazooka-type weapon out of which he fired the devastating red energy blast that killed the Abomination.

With their biggest obstacle in Blonsky dead, the team's odds were in their favor against the Forgotten legion.

"Alright, let's start the halftime show," Tony said, procuring a direct line to the New Avengers Facility inside his helmet. "Ivy? You ready?"

"You know it, Mister Stark."

Out of the Quinjet rocketed another flashy suit of armor, one designed for a female occupant.

The Rescue suit.

Ivy controlled it on the battlefield back from New York, via a Telepresence Headset supplied by Stark.

As she joined in, Hank pressed on to the Forgotten base with Stark.

Another party accompanied them: a redhead woman wearing the stabilization suit.

"Sierra?!" Hank exclaimed. "Is that you?!"

"Just call me 'Agent X' from now on," the redhead entreated.

The trio was met with Forgotten resistance once inside, taking down a handful of Sterns' followers with a combination of Hank's uncanny ability to shrink and enlarge, Tony's repulsor blasts, and Agent X's unlimited prowess.

"Where's Sterns?" Hank asked, not finding any sign of the madman.

They only found Yuri Topolov, cowering underneath one of the tables.

Hank threateningly seized him by the collar, pulling him out in the open and getting his face – masked by the helmet of his Ant-Man suit – right up in Topolov's misshapen mug.

"WHERE IS CICILEY?!" He growled to the little man.

Between Pym's menacing tone and the scary motif of his mask, Yuri complied, pointing his quivering finger at a nearby cryo chamber.

Tossing the Russian freak aside, Hank approached the chamber.

He pried it open and released the cold fusion billowed around the semi-conscious Ciciley, who was donned in a hot pink gown. Aiding her dazed and incredibly weakened body out of the chamber, he instructed, "Just take it easy, Cici. We'll get you home."

"Hank?" She gazed at her suited rescuer, experiencing a sense of déjà vu. "Are we back in the war?"

"We're fighting in a different war now," Hank told her. "One that we're _winning_ this time."

Ciciley's fluttering gaze shifted from Hank to Agent X.

"Mama? Where did _you_ come from?"

Disgruntled over the mistaken recognition, X huffed, "I suppose I'd better start getting used to _that_."

Their mission accomplished, the group made way for the exit…

…only for it to be barred by Sterns, the mad genius materializing out of thin air.

"Last chance," he warned. "Surrender now."

"Or what?" Tony tested with a raised gauntlet, prepared to fire the repulsor.

Sterns merely looked on his glowing palm in admiration. "You don't get it. _None_ of you get it. All of our lives should be different from how it is here and now. I mean, Tony Stark and Hank Pym working _together_?! That's not meant to happen! I myself was never meant to escape imprisonment! Neither was the Skrulls meant to find Earth! We are living in a continuum of—!"

 _BLAM!_

His sermon was cut midsentence by gunshot to his inflated cranium, and down the crazed scientist went.

Hank, Tony, and X all but comprehended who fired the shot.

As it appeared, Ciciley regained enough strength to shoot Sterns with a handgun she happened to find sitting close by upon a worktable.

"NOBODY CARES!" She yelled to the dead man.

"He _was_ right about you and me working together though," Pym told Stark.

Observing Sterns' dead body, Tony's HUD display distinguished strange golden-rainbow fluid oozing out of the area where Ciciley shot him.

"O.K., that's definitely _not_ blood," Tony noted. "Or is it?"

Before he could have F.R.I.D.A.Y. analyze the abnormal substance, the foundation of the base began to quake and come apart.

A loud gasp redirected concentration on Sterns, who awoke back to life.

The gunshot wound in his skull healed speedily, flesh mending itself together in seconds.

His body lifted off the floor, rising higher and higher into the air.

Ciciley, Hank, Stark, and X escaped in time for the base to crumble; its pieces orbited around the levitating Sterns. The spectacle brought the outside conflict to a halt, as even Sterns' legion paused to witness his godlike power.

" **I AM LEADER OF THE NEW WORLD!** " He bellowed in a haunting, echoed voice. " **I WILL CREATE ALL LIFE IN MY IMAGE, STARTING NOW!** "

"Not today."

Out of nowhere, someone clung to his ascended body from behind, wrapping their arms and legs around him.

" **WHAT THE…?!** "

Down below, everyone got a clear view of what was happening: a young woman with hazel blonde hair materialized behind Sterns, clutching him as he floated.

"Who is _that_?!" Myst inquired.

The girl followed her surprise attack on Sterns by grasping onto his enormous head with both hands, virtually digging her fingers into his skin. A golden-rainbow glow circulated back and forth amid the girl's fingertips and Sterns' scalp.

"What's she doing to him?" Elendriel questioned.

"She's transferring energy between herself and Sterns," Hank discerned. "Sapping it out of him completely."

Sterns' eyes rolled to the back of his head, screaming in agony.

The pieces of the base and everything else that he made levitate with his mental control crashed back to the ground. He nearly fell himself, but the unknown girl – the only remaining thing suspended in the air – caught him.

She descended back to the Earth with Sterns' catatonic body, crowded by the hodgepodge of individuals in awe of her presence on the island.

Only one of them seemed to have solved the mystery of her identity.

"Jade?" Elendriel guesstimated.

The girl grinned. "Nice to meet all of you…again."

"What's going on?" X asked.

Upon discovering how much X had evolved in their battle – a sign that Hank's stabilization suit failed to live up to its purpose, Elendriel did her best to overcome her shock and offer an explanation: "Jade is a Guardian fusion between Mindy and Anne."

"You're telling me Anne was one of _them_ this whole time?!" Ciciley disdained. "I knew there was something I didn't like about that woman."

"Moms, she just saved our lives," X accredited.

Her remark once more brought all attention on her.

"And what happened to _you_?!" Ciciley asked her. "Last I saw you, you were a pipsqueak…and now you've got _my_ mother's fa…f-fa…"

Suddenly, Ciciley's body convulsed, collapsing into X's arms.

"What's wrong with her?" A concerned Yamila enquired.

Hank tried not to fluster as he gave his diagnosis: "W-Whatever Sterns took out of her is causing her body to reject its current state. Her molecules are becoming unstable."

"She's dying?!" X sobbed.

"No, no," Elendriel repeated. "T-There's gotta be something… _anything_!"

"Only a total blood transfusion would be the solution," Hank recommended. "But for someone to give _all_ their blood…they'd also be giving their life."

"I'll do it."

All eyes gravitated away from Ciciley, centering on a fully conscious Lee.

"My DNA is compatible with hers," she said. "At least, that's what Doctor Sterns told me."

"As crazy as he was, he was also right," Hank attested. "You're the last remaining Splitter – one of the fragments of Sean Livingston. As such, you have Ciciley's blood flowing in your veins."

Lee's brow furrowed, looking on Ciciley. "I know her, but I don't know why."

"She's our mother," X told her. "She's the one that gave us life."

"Is that why I am so willing to give _my_ life for hers?"

"Yes, because that's what Sean Livingston – her son – would do."

"I'm at liberty to let you know," Hank told X, "that if we go through with the procedure, you will lose the only person that could help you return to being Sean Livingston."

X breathed deep with acceptance. "It's worth keeping my mother alive."


	13. Epilogue

**Epilogue: Heir to the Empire**

 **Malibu, California – 2013**

" _Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday, dear Sean! Happy Birthday to youuuuuuuu!_ "

Among a multitude of friends and family from both S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers, Sean Livingston officiated his twenty-seventh birthday, blowing out the "2" and "7" candles of a birthday cake designed after the Avengers emblem to congratulatory applause.

The party was held in Tony Stark's cliff-side mansion.

It was an event courtesy of a successful collaboration between Stark and Elendriel.

"Kudos on the arrangements," she told the billionaire Avenger. "I don't think I've seen my brother this happy since his _tenth_ birthday."

"Glad to be of assistance," Stark said, as he handed a slip of paper to Elendriel.

She accepted it with a questionable frown. "What's this?"

"Let's just call it what it is: the bill."

Her eyes burnt infuriatingly. "Are you _kidding_ me?!"

Despite what was the start of a rocky relationship between Elendriel and Tony, all of the attendees were having a wonderful time mingling and catching up. Most of the guests included other Avengers, such as Steve Rogers, Bruce Banner, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, and even Thor. As far as fellow S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, Maria Hill and Nick Fury certainly would not have missed out.

Sean's birthday was the perfect time for all of them to reunite, having not seen much of each other since the Project Geo incident; in fact, that excursion was the topic of many conversations during the celebration.

There was only one guest missing: Ciciley.

It was not that she wasn't invited.

What happened at Project Geo changed her emotionally as it had physically, yet no one knew to what extent.

Through most of the evening, Elendriel doubted she would ever come.

Ciciley had not been there for either of her children's birthdays since 1996.

And then the doorbell rang over the music and conversing guests.

Elendriel answered it; she was comforted by the sight of her mother standing at the porch of Stark's mansion with a beautifully wrapped gift in hand and a humbled expression on her face.

"Hey, Elle," she softly said. "Can I come in?"

Elendriel could hardly believe she had to muster the courage to ask permission for such a thing. "Certainly, Moms," she permitted. "Come right in."

Ciciley cheerfully did so, setting her son's birthday gift atop the mass assortment from others he had yet to open. Regarding the pileup, she questioned to Elendriel out of curiosity and concern, "Where is the birthday boy?"

"Right out there," Elendriel pointed across the crowd towards the glass doors that led out to the balcony where Sean and Maria were engaged in an intimate moment.

"Since when has _that_ started?!" A stupefied Ciciley asked.

Elendriel shrugged. "Tonight, I suppose. Must be _her_ gift to him."

Ciciley knew Elendriel was only joking but, as a mother, found the joke to be in poor taste. She excused herself from her daughter's side, heading for the balcony.

She showed up just as the two lovers disconnected.

Feigning a cough, she succeeded in getting their eyes off each other and on her.

"Moms," Sean exclaimed, acting as if Ciciley had caught him with Maria in his bedroom. "When did _you_ show up?"

"Just now," Ciciley smirked. "Happy Birthday, sweetheart."

She wedged herself in between him and Maria to give her son a big hug.

By that gesture, Maria knew it was time for her to return to the party indoors.

"I'll meet up with you later," she told Sean.

He watched her leave the balcony, giving a dejected sigh while left alone with his overbearing mother. "You're somethin' else, you know that," he griped at her. "What is it you got against Maria anyway?"

"Nothing," Ciciley sincerely remarked. "She's a nice girl with a good head on her shoulders. Matter of fact, Nicholas speaks _very_ highly of her."

"I bet he does."

As irritated as he was by his mother's prude intervention, he was nonetheless delighted to see her there.

"Thanks for coming," he acknowledged with a smile.

"I know I've got a lot of birthdays to make up for, after Project Geo kept me from you and Elle for so long. What happened last year…Life's really given me a second chance. I'm not going to waste any of it without my children by my side."

Touched by this, Sean embraced her – a token she blissfully returned.

* * *

 **New Avengers Facility, New York (Present Day)**

A week passed since Côn Sơn Island.

In the conference room, Ross and Fury updated the small audience of Agent X, Elendriel, and Myst on the status of Samuel Sterns.

"Rest assured, he'll be spending the rest of his _un_ natural-born life rotting in his cell at the Raft," Fury affirmed. "I doubt he'll think twice about escaping again."

"I doubt he'll be able to _think_ at all," Ross reversed. "He's a total vegetable now whatever it was that kid did to him." He fixed on Elendriel. "What did you say her name was again?"

"Jade," she told him.

"What about Sterns' subjects?" Myst quizzed. "Those poor souls he woke out of that freak show in HYDRA's old base?"

"They're being kept in an installation under constant twenty-four-seven surveillance," Fury disclosed. "One of them, Yuri Topolov, asked specifically to be placed with Sterns at the Raft, so he can be his caretaker."

X grimaced in deep thought. "I still can't shake what Sterns said about what's to come for Earth: that 'great force' out there in space that oversteps the Skrulls. And something about the continuum?"

"All a bunch of nonsense from a head swollen by power and insanity," Elendriel condemned. "All we need to worry about are the Skrulls and how much of S.H.I.E.L.D. they've been able to access in the last year."

"To do that, we need a thorough investigation into each member, using the same tactics as when HYDRA was discovered in the organization," Ross advocated.

"You do realize that could take months," Fury criticized. "Months we could be spending preparing for this invasion."

"I suppose you have a _better_ idea?" Ross rebutted.

As the two officials occupied themselves with another dispute, X picked up on another altercation taking place right outside the conference area. Ciciley was the root of it, yelling over the nurses and doctors trying desperately to get the fragile albeit recovering woman back to her room. Balanced by her I.V. pole, she still wore the pink gown from Côn Sơn Island.

X immediately intervened, careful not to attract the attention of those in the conference room as she hurried out.

"Moms, what're you doing out of your room?" She asked Ciciley.

"Don't _you_ start with me now," Ciciley stormed. "I wanna see my grandson."

There was always a method to her madness, but this one was justified in X's eyes.

She aided Ciciley into the nursery where Oneida, who had wholly adopted her new nanny position, watched the Disney film _Frozen_ with Karter while John was in his crib.

"Ohhhh," Ciciley gushed over her sleeping grandson. "He looks _exactly_ like you did when you were as little as him!"

X chuckled. "Yeah, I said the same thing when I first looked at him."

"It's fitting he was named 'John,' you know," Ciciley elucidated. "It's the Irish form of _your_ birth name, 'Sean'."

"It _was_ ," X lamented. "I can't be Sean Livingston anymore, Moms. It was the name to another face. This one…" She waved her hand up and down at her countenance. "…has more relevance to _Chrissy_ Livingston."

Ciciley turned to her, comfortingly placing a hand to the side of X's face.

"Whether you're Sean or Chrissy," Ciciley said, "you carry the memory of two wonderful human beings both inside and out."

X beamed from her mother's sentiment. "Thanks, Moms."

The two women shared a hug.

Oneida looked on them briefly before attending to Karter once again, lovingly stroking his head.

* * *

In the far reaches of space, a Skrull command ship navigated across an asteroid belt. Its most valued passenger was Veranke, Queen of the Skrull Empire. Situated in her throne aboard the bridge, she assessed the procedures carried out by her delegates near their respective stations. The majestic view of space displayed over a spacious, spotless window.

On her occasional appointments on Earth, she sustained the human form of "Doctor Marie Nylen," the resident psychiatrist of the New Avengers Facility – a front to learn more of their Terrain foes, as well as to ensure the safety of a special person they were keeping there.

However, it was in the presence of her people she felt freer in her own skin.

"My Queen," addressed her aide, Morrat the Warlord. "Our incursion should begin post haste. The Empire wastes precious time waiting for Thanos to collect his worthless Infinity Stones."

"I disagree, Morrat," contended Dorrek, the Skrull Emperor and Veranke's father. "Thanos and his Infinity Gauntlet are the only way the incursion can be a guaranteed success. The warriors of Earth have already thwarted us _twice_."

"On the contrary, Father," Veranke said. "Samuel Sterns _did_ succeed in turning Ciciley Livingston into the living time bomb HYDRA made her to be. Once she dies, Earth itself will die, and then we shall claim it."

"The Earth woman's demise will only put your son – _my_ grandson – at risk," Dorrek reminded her.

"We will claim him before that can ever happen," Veranke pledged.

"Where are the Earth vermin keeping him?"

"In their facility. They've given him an Earth name: Karter. But he will _always_ be Dorrek the VIII, Heir to the Skrull Empire."

 **Marvel Evolution**


End file.
